Coming Home
by burnthiscityxx
Summary: It's been six years since Sam Evans left Lima, Ohio. But when the anticipated wedding invitation arrives in the mail, he finds himself heading back to the one place he always called home – and back to the one girl who always had his heart.
1. Prologue

**Hey, everyone! Okay, I know I'm behind on It Isn't Over (story of my life. Lol), but inspiration struck and I needed to write this! Haha.**

**This is my second shot at doing a Sam/Quinn fanfic, so please let me know what you think. I'm really excited about the plot, so yay! =P**

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><p><em>Prologue<em>

The sun was starting to set and it had started to rain a little, making the air damp and chilly. People on the street hurried through the crowds, umbrellas up in anticipation and darting their gazes away from others, desperate to make it back home in time for dinner. Meanwhile, a blonde, athletic, six-foot tall male stumbled clumsily through the doors of a nondescript café bar, dragging a guitar case behind him.

"Sam! There you are!" the owner, in an old, flannel shirt and a Yankees baseball hat threw his dishtowel over his shoulder, leaning his elbows on the bar top he was tending, greeting the young man.

"Hey, Jack. Am I late? I left the office as soon as I could," the blonde headed straight to the makeshift stage on the far end of the room, dropping the messenger bag he was holding and pulling out his guitar, quickly strumming a few chords.

"You're right on time," Jack winked at him and motioned for him to set up.

He slung his guitar over his head and plucked a few strings, waiting for the crowd to roll in. It was a small café bar - quiet during the days and slightly chaotic at night, when the younger crowds came in to hear live music. He had discovered it late one night, while he was wandering the streets of the city, and had only entered because he heard a familiar country twang that reminded him of Nashville. Sure enough, Jack Bryant was from Georgia and just like that, friendship struck.

_'It's been six years,'_ he thought to himself sadly. Six years since Sam Evans and his family moved from Lima, Ohio to Nashville, Tennessee. Six years since he up and left the New Directions. Six years since he's heard from anyone but Finn, Rachel, and the occasional phone call from Mike and Tina. He was doing well for himself, though. After graduating high school, Sam got accepted to a small university in New York City. He packed up his life one more time, worked and went to classes, and got his college degree. And now? His job as product manager at an advertising firm kept him busy and financially stable, but his guitar kept him sane – a fact he discovered after nearly quitting his job. It was six months in and he was ready to give up, when Rachel had called out of the blue with an invitation to her Broadway debut and for a split second, his mind flashbacked to the night she and Finn brought his beloved guitar back to him. _'You need the music,'_ she had said. After that small reminder, it was easy and now, Sam rushed to the Blue Ridge Café and Bar every Friday night after work, where he played several sets for Jack. And on Sunday mornings, after church, he taught a group of kids how to play guitar. It was nice that after all the packing, goodbyes, and leaving, music was the one thing he could hold on to.

Smiling to himself, Sam ran his fingers along the strings and a shot of nostalgia coursed through him. Without thinking, he launched into a slow, easy tune, his voice carrying across the room clearly and crisply. It was in moments like this, where he could lay his heart on the line and tonight, it was just him, the guitar, and the music.

_Come home to me,_

_Come home to me,_

_Back into my arms,_

_Home where you belong._

_Come home to me, _

_Come home to me,_

_If home is where you are,_

_Then home is way too far away…_

Later that night, after the last few customers had trickled away, Sam stepped into the apartment he rented in Brooklyn, propping his guitar case against the wall and tossing his keys on the table. Holding his mail by the teeth, he shrugged his leather jacket off and clicked his answering machine to see if there were any messages.

"Hi, sweetie! It's me, mom. Just wondering how you're doing over there. I know we saw you last month, but do you still have enough lasagna in the freezer? If you don't, well, Jersey isn't too far from New York, you know. Call me soon, we miss you and we love you! Be safe, hon," Mrs. Evans' voice was comforting and Sam couldn't help but chuckle to himself, as he opened the freezer and saw the stacks of lasagna still waiting to be eaten.

_Beep!_

"Hi, Sammy! It's Stacy and Stevie! We miss you!" his younger siblings' voices filled his empty apartment and for a split second, Sam's insides churned. The Evans family had moved to New Jersey after Nashville and even though he was only a quick bus ride away, he never seemed to spend enough time with his brother and sister.

Slamming the refrigerator door shut, Sam took a long pull from the beer in his hand, before shuffling through his mail and listening to several useless voice messages – bill, bill, Lucas calling to ask for a ride, bill, catalog, Amber calling to ask for a last minute date, account statements, Jack asking for a longer set. They all seemed to mesh together, until his fingers found a heavy, thick envelope. Pushing the other papers aside, he traced the intricate detailing on the names.

_Rachel Berry and Finn Hudson._

When Sam first moved to New York City, he didn't know anyone. Several months after starting college, he ran into Finn, an old McKinley High classmate and former fellow Glee club member. Although rivals in high school, Sam and Finn struck up an unexpected friendship and Rachel, their former Glee club leader, came along for the ride. Since then, the three attended Broadway parties and shows (for Rachel), football games (for Finn), and open mic nights (for Sam). Of course, Rachel and Finn had fallen back into their unfinished relationship from high school, but this time, it was different and here it was – their wedding invitation. _'Whoa,'_ Sam thought to himself, suddenly feeling very old. He brought the invitation over to his living room, turning it over and over in his hands, before prying it open, only half-realizing his answering machine was still going.

_Beep!_

"Hey, Sam, it's Mike. I know we haven't talked in a while, but I was just wondering if you got Rachel and Finn's wedding invite? I'm sure you did, since you're in New York with them," Sam nodded along with the message, knowing that Mike, who now lived in Boston, had more to say. "You do know it's back in Lima, right? And rumor has it that…well, that _she's_ in Lima…I just thought I'd give you a heads up? Anyway, call me back, man," the line cut and Sam sat frozen, his hands still clutching the Hudson-Berry wedding invitation. Taking a quick glance at it, he read it once, twice, three times:

_Lima, Ohio._

Where he stayed for a year. Where he found music. Where he made lifelong friends. And most of all, where he knew she was.

After six years, Sam Evans was coming home.


	2. Chapter 1: Not Over You

**Hey, everybody! First off, thanks to everyone who reviewed, your comments make my day and please, if you have any suggestions - suggest them! =P **

**Obviously, I don't own Gavin DeGraw or any of the Glee characters...if I did, I'd make Sam Evans sing for me all day long. Lol.**

**Anyway, here's the first, proper chapter of Coming Home! I hope you guys like it! =)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Not Over You<strong>

Grabbing his bag off the carousel, Sam chucked it onto a trolley and made his way towards the exit. He had been in Lima for only twenty minutes, but he could feel himself changing again. There was an anticipation and excitement in him, but there were nerves and anxiety, too. It had been so long since he had seen any of the old McKinley High gang and even though they had always tried their hardest to stay in contact – seeing each other in person would be completely different.

"Sam!" a familiar voice broke his thoughts and he looked up to see a tall, Asian male waving his arms frantically. Beside him, an Asian girl with purple streaks in her dark hair stood with her arms crossed, a grin across her lips.

"Mike!" he cried out, rushing over to the couple and enveloping them in a big hug. They stayed like that for several minutes, Sam comforted by the fact that they still looked exactly the same. "God, it's good to see you guys!"

"You look so handsome!" Tina smiled, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "Come on, the car's out front," she motioned Mike to pick up the rest of Sam's bags and they made their way towards the exit.

"So, who else is already here?" Sam asked, letting the soft warmth of the Ohio heat wash over him.

"Finn and Rachel, obviously," Mike grunted, lifting the suitcase into the car. "Kurt, Blaine, Artie, and Mercedes flew in yesterday. Santana and Brittany are coming tomorrow,"

"Cool," he nodded, hopping into the car. "And…"

"Quinn's been here a while," Tina said softly, as Mike revved the engine. Sam chewed on the inside of his lip nervously. It had been a long time since he had heard her name, but now that he was back home, it was time to get used to it.

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><p>"I didn't! It wasn't that bad!" Tina shrieked, wiping tears from her eyes.<p>

"Oh, yes it was!" Sam laughed, popping a Dorito chip into his mouth. He had been in Lima for a total of five hours now and they had already been the best five hours of his life. After the awkward silence that followed after a certain blonde girl's name was uttered, Mike, Sam, and Tina fell into an easy conversation and before Sam knew it, they had pulled up to his hotel. He barely had a chance to unpack, before Tina invited him over to their small, rented service apartment for dinner, where they were now rehashing old memories.

"Okay, okay! So I might have gotten a little over-emotional in high school," Tina chuckled. "What have you been up to, Sam? How's New York?" she asked curiously, picking up the dirty plates and crossing over to their makeshift kitchen.

"New York is…busy. It's great, really. Work is good and I'm still playing guitar, so I'm happy," he grinned, taking a sip of his beer. Mike nodded, listening, but Sam could tell his friend was itching to ask him a question. "What is it?" he asked.

"Just wondering how your love life is," he replied, after a short pause. Sam winced slightly, before forcing his lips into a smile.

"It's non-existent, actually. I've gone on a couple of dates, but nothing serious," he shrugged, before noticing Mike and Tina directing their nervous gazes away from him. A little frustrated and annoyed, he spoke up. "Alright, what is it? Is there something going on that I don't know about? Like, do you guys have a secret baby or is Kurt suddenly dating Karofsky? Because you two seem to be hiding _something_,"

"No! There's no secret baby, please, we're not even married yet!" Mike spluttered, causing Tina to chuckle lightly at her boyfriend.

"What he _means _to say, is that we're not hiding anything," she placed an open Tupperware of chocolate chip cookies on the table and settled down next to Mike comfortably. "We were just wondering if you've heard about Quinn, that's all," she added softly. Sam paused, his hand mid-way between the cookies and his mouth. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head.

"What about Quinn?"

"Well, she's living with Puck," Mike answered hesitantly. "They're sort of…together," he added. Sam nodded, averting his eyes away from his friends' concerned expressions. Of course she wouldn't be available – did he really think he could just stroll in and expect her to fall in love with him again? Quinn Fabray was beautiful, smart, talented, incredibly kind, and there was no way he was the only man to ever realize it.

"Great," he forced the word and a happy smile, before wrapping his fingers around a chocolate chip cookie and shoving it into his mouth.

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><p>Shutting the door closed behind her with a graceful tap of her foot, Quinn Fabray shuffled through the mail absentmindedly, making her way into the kitchen. Running a quick finger through her damp hair, she perched herself on the counter, separating bills from catalogs and junk mail. It was a late Monday morning and she had just finished a run around the neighborhood – something she rarely got to do, thanks to taking care of the house, studying for finals, and working part-time.<p>

Quinn had been in a small, decrepit bookstore in Salinas when she got a call from her frantic mother, babbling about how her father (whom she hadn't spoken to in years, ever since the Beth incident) had gotten hit by a truck and was hanging onto life by a thread. Terrified and panicked, Quinn had dropped the books, dove into her car, and was on speakerphone with an airline company in mere minutes. The trip back to Lima had left her little time to tie up loose ends in California and after her father's funeral, she couldn't stand the thought of leaving her mother alone. So Quinn had dutifully dropped out of college, just one semester shy of graduating, shipped her boxes back home, and that was that.

Of course, after a year of taking online classes at a useless community college, Mrs. Fabray insisted her daughter move back to California and back to USC. Quinn couldn't do it, though. After the loss of one parent, all she wanted to do was stay close to the remaining one she had left. And that was how she ended up at Northwestern Ohio, working part-time at a real estate agency.

She jumped off the kitchen counter, crossing the room. She never regretted moving back to Lima, but a part of her would always wonder what life would've been like if she had stayed in California. Pausing absentmindedly, she blinked and her eyes caught sight of a heavy card being held up by a failing magnet on the refrigerator door.

_Rachel Berry and Finn Hudson._

There it was, in intricate, detailed lettering, with vines and pretty flowers intertwined around their names. Quinn smiled – she couldn't believe two of her best friends were finally getting married. Her friendship with Rachel had come as a surprise to a lot of the former Glee club members, and sometimes, to herself. The brunette was loud, bossy, and a vocal powerhouse, but above all, Rachel was the one who had helped Quinn move out of her mother's house and get her life slowly back on track. A small bubble of anticipation rose inside her, when she realized the wedding reception (only a few weeks away) would be a reunion of sorts – the whole McKinley High Glee club, back together. The thought made her giddy with excitement.

"Quinn?" a voice broke through her thoughts and she whipped her head around to see a familiar figure swagger through the kitchen doorway.

"Hi. You're home?" she asked, getting out two bottles of water and sliding one across the counter towards him. Noah Puckerman, the resident bad boy of Lima, was now working at one of the top construction companies in the city, after another short run-in with the law. After Quinn realized she had no place to go, Puck had offered her the extra room in his house and despite the awkward living situation, she had no other options. One thing had led to another and there were several drunken nights involved before she found herself in a relationship with him – the universe's twisted way of giving her a second chance with the boy who got her pregnant in high school. And although Quinn always harbored a special place in her heart for him, their relationship was only on the surface. Other than talking about Beth and the occasional phone call to Shelby, Quinn and Puck never really talked about anything deeper.

"The construction crew can handle it," he shrugged, running his hand over his Mohawk. "Have you heard from Finn and Rachel?"

"Not yet, but it's still early," she smiled.

"Yeah, well, I've got a tux fitting and then dinner with the guys tonight," he muttered, tapping his fingers against the counter. "Think I can get out of it?"

"Oh, Puck, it'll be fun! You'll get to see Artie, Blaine, Kurt, Finn, and Mike – it'll be good," she assured him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"And Sam?" he asked, looking up at her. Quinn drew back her hand, as if she had just touched fire, and sucked in her breath. She hadn't heard that name in months – no, years. Her mind conjured up an image of a smiling, blonde guitar-playing man and for a split second, Quinn felt her heart ache.

"And…Sam," she forcefully said, through gritted teeth. Plastering a smile on her face, Quinn ran her hand affectionately down Puck's arm and sighed. "You'll have fun, you know you're excited to see them," she added, pecking him softly on the cheek and striding out of the kitchen, trying to steady her breaths. She had been so excited about seeing her old friends and so caught up in the wedding haze that it had completely slipped her mind that after six long years, Sam Evans was coming home.

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><p>Sam closed the door quietly behind him, tossing his room card and the keys to his rental car onto the small dresser. Shrugging off his leather jacket, he sunk back into the headboard of his comfortable bed, letting the cool, night air wash over him. It was his second day being home and needless to say, it was just as eventful as he thought it would be. Sam had spent the morning visiting McKinley High with Artie and Mercedes, before heading to a tux fitting appointment with the boys and Rachel. Then it was dinner at a steak restaurant and drinks at a bar downtown, and now, all Sam wanted to do was sleep – even though his eyes thought otherwise.<p>

He stretched his legs out before him and picked up the remote, flipping channels to find something mind numbing to watch. It was difficult, but he needed to get _her _off his mind. Ever since Mike had told him about Quinn and Puck living together, Sam had used all his willpower and restraint not to punch Noah's face in between the steak dinner and dessert. It was insane, though. It wasn't like she wasn't allowed to date. And if she did date, why shouldn't it be with Puck, who, after all, was the father of the baby she gave up for adoption?

'_It's just that I wish she was dating me,'_ he thought pitifully, before shoving the idea out of his head. Quinn was with Puck now. And all Sam had was a life waiting for him back in New York. Punching one of his pillows angrily, he ran both his hands through his short hair, breathing deeply. Before he knew what he was doing, Sam found his hands reaching for the backpack he had traveled with. Unzipping the front compartment and reaching inside, his fingers grazed and grasped a soft, velvet box and in that moment, Sam's heart lifted and crashed hard. He pulled it out and opened the small box, revealing a small, pretty, and modest ring. _The_ ring. The ring he offered her when he swore he'd marry her someday. The ring she nail-filed into his locker for. The ring he found back in his locker the week after he broke up with her.

Even then, he couldn't let go. He was still miserable when he dated Santana, still miserable when he saw her with Finn, and still miserable when he dated Mercedes. He was miserable when he left and didn't bother to say goodbye to anybody, except Mike, who passed along the message. And he was miserable (although he blamed it on himself) when he got a 'We Miss You!' card signed from everyone but her. Sam used to think things came along easily. Until his family hit rock bottom, he believed in everything working out in the end. But how long did he have to wait to be with Quinn again? Did he even want that anymore? More importantly, did she? Shoving the ring box back into his backpack's compartment, Sam did the only thing he knew what to do in times of crisis – he turned to his guitar. Picking up the familiar instrument and running his fingers along its strings, slowly, he felt himself drifting back to a place when everything made sense – when everything worked out okay in the end.

_If you ask me how I'm doing,_

_I would say I'm doing just fine,_

_I would lie and say that you're not on my mind._

_But I go out and I sit down at a table set for two_

_And finally I'm forced to face the truth,_

_No matter what I say_

_I'm not over you..._

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><p>"I mean, I completely understand that he doesn't want to perform at our wedding, but as former Glee club members, I just feel like it'd be a crime not to," Rachel chatted, running her fingers along the rich fabrics. It was a clear, sunny day and Quinn had been roped to go shopping with the bride-to-be for (it was still too creepy to say out loud) their wedding night.<p>

"He just doesn't want that kind of pressure on such a big event, you know? It'd be like performing at Nationals all over again,"

"I suppose," the brunette sighed. "What do you think of this?" she asked, holding out a bright yellow lace nightie.

"Oh wow. Rach, have I ever told you that it's really awkward picking out someone else's sex clothes?" Quinn stifled a giggle. "Especially for someone who's about to marry my ex-boyfriend,"

"Come on! You and Finn ended your relationship a long time ago. There's no bad blood between the two of you," she pointed out, putting the nightie back. "Speaking of bad blood…have you heard Sam is back in town?"

"Smooth transition, Berry," Quinn said sarcastically, pulling her hair into a high ponytail. "As a matter of fact, I have heard. Puck told me yesterday, before he went out for dinner with them,"

"And you're alright with that?"

"With Puck going out for dinner with a bunch of guys? I think I can handle it,"

"No, I mean, with Sam," she whispered his name and ducked her head for emphasis, almost causing Quinn to burst out into laughter at her best friend's antics.

"Rachel, he's not…his name isn't poison, you know!" she chuckled, lifting her back up to eye level. "So Sam is back in Lima. I admit, things didn't work out between us and I screwed things up and he left town without saying goodbye. This stuff happens," she said thoughtfully.

"If you say you're alright, then I'll believe you,"

"I'm alright," Quinn replied. Picking out a lacy black number, she shoved it into Rachel's arms. "Now try this and buy it, so we can go to lunch,"

"Already gone," Rachel smiled, plucking the item out of the blonde's hands and skipping off to the changing rooms, leaving Quinn to browse the store idly. Her mind usually ran free with thoughts of the wedding or of her family, but lately, she could only focus on one person – Sam Evans. She wanted to see him, wanted to know what he was up to, who he was dating, what he was like now. Puck was no help, he had gotten into the house late and immediately collapsed into bed – so it wasn't like Quinn could've asked him. _'Lor menari,'_ she thought again, this time smiling to herself. Every once in a while, the words Sam had uttered to her in the boy's bathroom that fateful day would echo in her mind and she would always, always shove it aside. But with Sam back in town after six long years, Quinn was letting herself remember the boy whose heart she broke back in high school.


	3. Chapter 2: Just a Kiss

**Hi, everyone! Again, thank you to everyone who's reviewed, I really appreciate it and I love hearing that you guys are like this so far. After watching the Glee season 3 premiere (and consequently crying, because Sam wasn't there...=S), I'm more determined to keep the memory of our Na'vi speaking Trouty Mouth alive, so I'm having a lot of fun writing this - definitely makes up for the no Sam on Glee thing. Lol.**

**Again, I don't own Glee or any of these characters and I don't own Lady Antebellum, either. =P**

**Aside from that, I hope you guys are liking the story so far and please don't forget to review! Here's chapter 2 and happy reading! =)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: Just a Kiss<strong>

"Quinn, hurry up! We're going to be late!" Puck cried, his voice resonating through the house. Behind the closed bathroom door, Quinn was busy applying her seventh (or was it eighth?) coat of mascara, her fingers shaking nervously.

"I'll be down in a minute!" she shouted back. It had been a normal day. She had woken up, grabbed coffee, and went to college to register for her next semester. She had come home, done some yoga, and made lunch. And somewhere between cleaning the house and going to shop for groceries, she had gotten a call from Rachel, saying they were all going out to dinner, as a pre-wedding reunion thing. Needless to say, Quinn spent the next few hours turning her wardrobe inside out, trying to find the right outfit to wear. It wasn't just that she was going to see Sam for the first time after six years. It was that she didn't know what he would be thinking of her, what image he had kept of her after all this time. The thought made her stomach twist with anxiety and excitement.

"Quinn!" Puck's voice shouted again, startling her slightly. Sliding a quick coat of sheer lipgloss over her lips, Quinn took a step back to examine herself in the mirror, smoothing over her skirt. The soft, flimsy, lavender fabric floated gracefully over her figure, held up by two skinny straps, covered by her blonde hair she had let loose, with a small braid to the side.

"Well, this is as good as it's going to get," she sighed, grabbing her bag off the counter and making her way downstairs.

Several minutes later, Puck pulled the Jeep into the restaurant's car park and Quinn felt her heart do a dive into her stomach, as she spotted several rental cars next to Finn and Rachel's BMW.

"Ready?" Puck interrupted her thoughts, killing the engine. She smiled and nodded wordlessly, slinging her bag over her shoulder and stepping out of the car. The night air enveloped her like a cold, chilly blanket and the wind tugged at her hair, but with Puck guiding her towards the entrance, Quinn felt a little more at ease. She opened the door and was briefly met with the scent of oregano, before she felt two arms pulling her in close for a hug.

"Quinn! Oh my gosh, it's so good to see you!" Santana Lopez, a beautiful Latin young woman, held her old friend at arm's length, examining her up and down. "Girl, you got skinnier!" she laughed.

"Hi, Santana," the blonde rolled her eyes and gave her former Cheerio a quick kiss on the cheek, before greeting Brittany, who was standing idly by. "Hey, Britt-Britt!"

"No one calls me that in Sacramento. I missed you!" Brittany flung her arms wildly around Quinn's neck and for a split second, she forgot why she had been so nervous about the dinner in the first place. Scanning the restaurant discreetly, Quinn waved at her other friends, but couldn't find the face of the man she was terrified to see again. She noticed Mike, Puck (who had broken away as soon as they entered), and Finn talking about football in a corner, while Rachel, Tina, Lauren, and Kurt discussed wedding details. She saw Blaine and Artie at the bar, trying to get drinks.

"Looking for Trouty Mouth?"

"Well, everybody else is here," she replied.

"He's not. Well, not yet, anyway," Santana shrugged, taking Quinn by the arm and leading her towards the long table that stretched across the room. "Come on, let's sit. I heard the food here is amazing – way better than Breadstix," she chuckled, picking up her glass of wine. Quinn smiled politely and focused her attention on her friends, who were beginning to sit down, as well.

It had been such a long time since they had last met and she felt herself easing up and joining in on the conversation. Six years ago, if they had told Quinn that she would be sitting in between Santana Lopez and Rachel Berry, with Artie Abrams in front of her, having a civil, adult conversation – she would've laughed in their faces. _'But here we are now,'_ she thought happily, launching into the story of when Quinn and Puck had decided to dog-sit for their next door neighbors.

"So, the puppy starts ripping into the couch and we're trying everything to get it to…"

"Sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so freaking late, I'm so sorry!" a familiar voice interrupted her mid-sentence and she looked up, her heart coming to a stop. Sam Evans was frantically shrugging off his jacket and sitting in his seat, running a hand through his already messy, short hair. She noticed the pink tinge on his cheeks from the cold and she bit her lip, when she saw the way his white V-neck shirt tightened at the arms when he leaned forward.

"It's okay, we haven't started eating yet," Lauren said. "Quinn was just telling us a story," she gestured to the blonde girl, whose hand was frozen on her wine glass, her mouth gaping slightly open.

"Oh. Great," Sam quipped, taking a sip of his water. _'He looks the same…but different, somehow. Older, obviously. His hair is shorter. He looks…he looks good,'_ she thought.

"Um, Quinn?" Artie waved a hand in front of her eyes, causing her to blink rapidly.

"Oh!" she cried, realizing that she had been spacing out. "Right! What…what was I saying?" she spluttered, fixing the napkin on her lap nervously. She heard Rachel stifle a chuckle and it took all of Quinn's willpower not to elbow her in the ribs. "I…um, I forgot," shrugging her shoulders, she heard Puck sigh exasperatedly, before speaking for her.

"The puppy was ripping into the couch, but we eventually got him to stop when we bribed him with ice pops," he finished. The entire table laughed and Quinn just smiled, avoiding making eye contact with Sam. It was awkward, she realized, and she didn't know how to act around him. Back in high school, it was easy. Quinn had been the head cheerleader when she dated him. But then she gave up her spot and after that, Sam's popularity seemed to rise just fine without her.

For some reason, she didn't think a Cheerios uniform and a bitchy attitude would help her out this time.

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><p>"There are just some things that take time, you know? Opening a dance studio is one of those things," Mike said, chewing thoughtfully on a breadstick.<p>

"I couldn't agree more. I've been thinking of setting up my own record company, but it never seems right," Blaine nodded. "What about you, Sam? Any dreams to open a music store?" Sam snapped his head up, his fingers still tracing the soft edges of the coffee cup that sat in front of him.

"Uh, someday, I guess," he shrugged. "I'm just juggling guitar lessons, open mic nights, and work these days, so it's busy," he pointed out. After getting an understanding nod from Blaine and the rest of the boys, Sam went back to staring absentmindedly into his coffee.

On all accounts, the dinner so far had been great. Conversation flowed easily and Sam weaved effortlessly between talk about the wedding, work, and catching up on everybody's lives. But being seated next to Artie meant being a straight, diagonal shot away from Quinn and the distance was too close, in his opinion. Before arriving at the restaurant, he had vowed to keep his cool around her, to play it safe and aloof, to be friendly without being overly friendly. But it was as if the minute he looked into those eyes, all Sam wanted to do was reach over and kiss her on the lips until everybody else melted away. And now, with the girls at the bar, he was suddenly feeling a heavy weight pressed on his shoulders – as if he just had to talk to her now, before the wedding.

"Hey, man, could I talk to you for a sec?" Puck's hand slapped his shoulder playfully and Sam looked up briefly, before nodding his head and following him outside.

"What's up?" he asked, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

"Well, first off, I wanted to apologize. For not keeping in touch after you left," Puck said, his tone sincere and genuine. He held out his hand and Sam lifted his lips, shaking it. He had never been angry with any of the Glee club members for not keeping in touch. Sam had figured out early on that spending a year at a high school and then leaving didn't mean they would pine after you – life moved on and so did friends.

"Don't worry about it, man. You were forgiven a long time ago,"

"Thanks," Puck grinned, before a concerned expression stretched across his face and he began to nervously run his hand over his Mohawk. "Listen, I should've told you about me and Quinn," he blurted out. There was a silent pause between the two young men, before Sam cleared his throat tensely.

"Puck, don't…don't worry about it,"

"No, I mean, you and her had this whole thing going before you left and I don't think either of you really got over each other, you know? Quinn and I…we just sort of happened," Puck shrugged his shoulders, an apologetic look in his eye. Sam swallowed the fighting words that were threatening to come out of his throat and fidgeted slightly, running the tip of his faded, Converse sneakers along the pavement, when he came to a realization. He wasn't angry because Puck was dating Quinn. He was angry because Puck was there for Quinn when Sam couldn't be.

"Honestly, dude, it's alright. If you make each other happy, then that's all that matters, right?" Sam asked, patting a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. "Who knows, maybe the next wedding will be you two's," he said forcefully, plastering a smile across his lips.

"That's not happening," Puck shook his head, taking a quick peek inside the restaurant. Sam saw Artie turn on the stereo and he smiled internally, when he saw Quinn start to twirl across the makeshift dance floor.

"Why not? You guys are living together, aren't you?" Sam asked, leaning his back against the brick wall.

"Yeah, but what we have isn't serious or anything, you know? We don't really…talk, I guess. She knows it and I know it, but it's just easier to be together. Oh, we better get back inside," Puck motioned towards the restaurant, where Finn was starting to shuffle awkwardly, trying to follow Mike's dance moves. "Good having you back, Evans," he playfully punched his friend in the arm and shot him a genuine grin, before heading back inside, leaving Sam with the darkness around him. He let his head fall back onto the brick wall and closed his eyes, breathing in deeply.

Even though Puck had essentially confessed that he and Quinn's relationship wasn't serious, Sam couldn't even start to think of making a move on his ex-girlfriend. The complicated emotion ran through him and he took another deep breath, inhaling the scent of home. _'Italian food, night air, and…perfume?' _he thought, opening his eyes, as a puzzled expression etched across his face.

"Hi, stranger," Quinn, in a pretty lavender dress, was staring up at him with those big, beautiful eyes, her hands twisting together nervously. Sam coughed, certain he was probably choking on his own spit, before shoving his hands into his pockets, trying to find the right words.

"Uh…hi,"

"Sorry for sneaking up on you," she muttered, her voice angelic and soft, just like he remembered. She moved next to him and leaned back against the brick wall, looking up at the night sky. "It's pretty out here tonight,"

"Yeah…I guess it is," he said, settling back. Sam didn't want to stare, so he snuck a quick peek at her - the way her hair fell and ghosted over her bare shoulders, the way her eyes blinked softly at the open skies, and the way her face was highlighted by the moonlight. Sam could probably write a million songs about the girl standing next to him, but right now, he couldn't get any words to come out of his mouth. It had been so long since they had last seen each other and the distance between them felt so far.

"What were you and Puck talking about?" Quinn asked. She knew he was nervous. Sam wasn't hard to read at all and the way his hands were shoved in his pockets was a clear sign that he was uncomfortable. She had been inside the restaurant, helping Rachel with her toast, when she saw Puck and Sam head outside. After that, all she could do was sneak glances and when she saw Puck go back inside the restaurant, she took her chance.

"Just…stuff," he shrugged. "He apologized for not keeping in touch,"

"Oh," Quinn thought. _'Why isn't he mad at me? He should be furious. I didn't stay in touch with him, either. And I broke his heart. He should be yelling at me!' _her thoughts screamed.

"Quinn, what's going on here?" he asked suddenly. She looked up at him, into his soul-searching eyes and found herself moving, so she stood in front of him.

"We're talking," she pointed out.

"Quinn," he said sternly. Sam took his hands out of his pockets and ran them through his hair, frustrated. She always affected him this way, but the truth was, he was the only one who could see past the front that she put up. Sure, they only dated for a short while, but Sam _knew_ her. And he knew that Quinn coming out of the restaurant to make small talk was only an act.

"Puck and I are breaking up," she blurted out, and then slapping her hand over her mouth, as if she couldn't believe the words had fallen out of her mouth. _'Oh, wow, there it is,'_ she thought. The truth was, Quinn had thought about breaking up with Puck since two months ago – they weren't in love with each other and they both knew it. What were they staying together for? Convenience?

Quinn didn't want convenience - she wanted love.

She saw Sam's eyebrows rise in surprise and by some unknown force, she took a step closer, inhaling deeply. There it was. That same cologne, the same shampoo, the same _Sam_.

"If that's what you want," he muttered, internally torn between jumping for joy and feeling guilty beyond belief. He had noticed her moving closer and if he was a good friend, he'd have pushed her away. Sam's conscience told him that, but his heart told him something else.

"Maybe I don't know what I want," she whispered softly. Sam inhaled sharply and her gaze flickered from his eyes to his mouth, as if she couldn't believe what she was about to do. There was a silent pause, before Quinn leaned up and pressed her lips against his, both of them getting lost in a soft, sweet kiss. She tangled her fingers in his hair and sighed quietly in his mouth, as she felt his strong arm grip her waist tighter – she hadn't felt this free or happy in years. _'Six years, to be exact,'_ she thought, before Sam pulled away, breaking the kiss and holding her at an arm's length. She looked up at him and saw the confusion on his face. And why wouldn't he be confused? What was she doing?

"Quinn, I…" he started.

"Don't," Quinn held up a hand, biting back the tears. Her head was pounding, her heart was hurting, and suddenly, she felt like she couldn't breathe. Did she just kiss him? Where had that come from? And how could she have missed out on it after all these years?

One thing was for sure. If either of them had any doubts about the other's feelings…they certainly didn't anymore.

_Just a kiss on your lips in the moonlight,_

_Just a torch in the fire burning so bright,_

_And I don't want to mess this thing up,_

_I don't want to push too far…_


	4. Chapter 3: Till We Ain't Strangers

**Hey everybody! Thanks so much for all the reviews and the alerts, I appreciate it so much! Always nice to know there are other Sam/Quinn fans out there. =) **

**Anyhoo, here's the next chapter! Last time, you got to see Quinn kiss Sam and this kind of deals with the aftermath of it all. If there are any questions, hit me up. =P This one's a little long, but I wanted to fit everything in, so I hope you guys like it! It picks up the night of the Glee club reunion dinner (from the previous chapter) and goes on to the next day.**

**Also, I don't own Bon Jovi, Leann Rimes, or Glee, obviously. =P**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: <strong>**'Till We Ain't Strangers Anymore**

"So, she just kissed you and ran away?" Mike asked, running his thumb over the edges of the glass in his hand.

"Exactly. She said, 'Don't,' then she just took off, back into the restaurant. And I was just standing there, until I saw you wave at me to come back in and then…well, we just avoided each other," Sam explained, shrugging his shoulders. The dark night hung in the air, as the two men sat out on the balcony, abandoned beer bottles and a bag of Doritos scattered on the coffee table between them. Tina had kissed them both (Mike on the lips, Sam on the cheek) goodnight and had tired to bed, but Sam had too much on his mind to head back to his hotel room and instead, asked his friend for advice.

"And she told you they're breaking up?"

"Yeah. Sort of. I guess. I'm not going to do anything, you know? I mean, Puck's still a friend to me and I know it's been ages, but I couldn't…I couldn't do to her what she did to me, if that makes any sense," Sam groaned, running a hand over his tired face.

"Well, you're a damn good friend. Puck certainly didn't extend the same courtesy to other girls," Mike murmured and for a split second, both their minds came across the same thought – Quinn and Finn, Finn and Rachel.

"He's gotten himself into a fair share of triangles, but let's face it – Puck's still a good guy, you know?" the blonde pointed out.

"Yeah, well, so are you. And everybody knows you and Quinn have a ton of unfinished business. It's written all over both your faces. Puck is…temporary," Mike explained in a hesitant tone. "He's like a band-aid for her right now, kind of covering up all the hurt she's been through. After her dad passed away, she just sort of settled into this life and she's…well, I don't think Quinn's happy,"

"Even if that's the case, I can't…it'd be wrong,"

"Look, the bottom line is, do you want to be with Quinn?" Mike asked. Sam paused, his answer barely on the tip of his tongue as he weighed his options. Being without Quinn was bearable and could be done, but it was felt like floating through life – you got to the places you were supposed to, but with no stories to tell.

"Yeah, I do," he admitted sheepishly. "But not at the expense of Puck's friendship," he added, his brow furrowing.

"Screw that. Man, Puck told you they're not working out. Quinn's told you they're breaking up. The way I see it, go for what you want. She hurt you six years ago and you've hurt her by not keeping in contact. You're both even,"

"I guess…I guess you're right," Sam said, his eyes widening in disbelief, as if he had never thought of it that plainly before.

"Good. Now, I love you, dude, but you've got to get out of here. I'm exhausted and I need my beauty sleep for tomorrow," Mike chuckled, standing up and slapping Sam on the shoulder playfully. "Look, whatever decision you make…just make it for _you_. Not Puck, not your family, not Finn or Rachel. You," he added with a last glance, before heading inside.

* * *

><p>"Do you ever think we were supposed to end up here?" Quinn mused, licking the spoon in her hand clean of the chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream she was eating.<p>

"In Lima?" Rachel wrinkled her nose, a smile playing across her lips. The sun was about to rise, but when Quinn had showed up on her doorstep at 4:30 AM, Rachel had no choice but to let her come in. They had sentimentally pored through their old high school yearbooks, nearly woken Finn up with their incessant laughter, and were now huddled underneath a big blanket, sharing a tub of ice cream.

"I mean here, in our lives. You know, about to marry your high school sweetheart and a regular on Broadway and TV shows?" Quinn giggled, nudging her knee against her friend's.

"I have always prided myself on pure determination and talent to get to where I am today. As for Finn…he came along for the ride," Rachel stifled a laugh behind her spoon of ice cream, before shoving it ungracefully into her mouth. "What about you? Working part-time at a big real-estate agency, getting your college degree, and having a live-in boyfriend…is that where you think you're supposed to end up?" she asked thoughtfully.

"No," Quinn said simply, leaning back into the couch. "I thought I'd be in California or New York. I thought I'd have a college degree. And I definitely didn't think I'd be living with Puck," she sighed, biting her lip. "I don't know where it all went wrong,"

"Maybe it didn't go wrong, maybe it just went in a different direction. Different isn't necessarily wrong," Rachel pointed out.

"I guess. I just wish there was something…more," Quinn mused, her mind flooding with images of Sam and their kiss only several hours earlier. "I kissed him," she blurted out, her cheeks flushed.

"Kissed who?"

"Sam," the blonde said, before receiving a hard slap from her best friend in the arm. "Hey!" she protested.

"You're only telling me this now?" Rachel cried, waving her arms frantically. She threw back the blanket and started to pace across the living room, her hands wringing together. Quinn had to hold back her laughs – to be frank, her best friend looked insane. "What does this _mean?_ You know you cheated on Puck, right?"

"I know, it's a mess," Quinn groaned, running a hand over her face exasperatedly. "Rach, could you sit down? You're giving me a headache,"

"I know you and Sam have this unspoken bond between you two, but I never thought…after everything you guys went through in high school…" Rachel mused aloud, sitting herself back down and staring off into the distance in deep thought.

"Maybe…maybe I still love Sam," Quinn admitted in a small voice. The words made Rachel whip her head back around to face the blonde and her jaw dropped. "I mean…oh, I don't know. It's just that Puck and I…we just fell into this, you know? It was like he needed someone and I needed someone and we just found each other. But Sam and I…it's like this attraction we can't get rid of, even after six years," Quinn struggled to explain, the words falling out of her mouth with less and less conviction.

"Quinn, you do realize what you're saying, don't you?" Rachel asked, biting her lip worriedly.

"I do, I really do. I just feel like everyone's moving forward and I've been stuck here, ever since my dad passed away. And I just fell into this thing with Puck because it was convenient and I needed someone to lean on," Quinn responded, taking the time to sort out her thoughts. She knew she didn't deserve Sam – not after all the hurt she had put him through in high school. Still, the remnants of her Queen Bee status in her personality made Quinn want to fight for him. She deserved him now, she wanted him now. "But I could be happy with Sam. I _was_ happy with Sam," Quinn added, looking up at Rachel, the first genuinely sincere smile she had smiled in over six years playing across her lips happily.

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><p>He felt the warm sun beat against the back of his neck, as he jogged through the park, letting a soft breeze hit his face and brush back his hair. Earlier that morning, Sam had woken up with a newfound sense of purpose. He needed to clear his head and clear his thoughts, so he did the one thing he knew well – he went for a run. He had already jogged past McKinley High, past the old basketball courts where he and Mike used to play one-on-one, and past Breadstix. Now in the park, he saw flashes of the familiar monkey bars and swing sets – places where he used to take Stacy and Stevie to play, before they had left Lima. Turning a sharp corner that brought him out and onto a lonely stretch of road, his heart pounded as he came to the realization of where he was. He came to an abrupt stop and looked up at the dilapidated, unlit, billboard sign – "American Family Motel."<p>

A rush of memories flooded him at that moment, from the day they had reluctantly moved in to the day they had finally gotten the chance to leave. Sam sat down on the curb, staring at the motel, one door in particular. Behind that door, stood a small, tiny room that once housed his entire family and all their belongings. But still, despite the conditions they were living in, Sam knew his family had gotten stronger and closer since then. And he couldn't deny that there were some great times that happened in the motel. Pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes, Sam thought of the nights he'd come home from his job and found his younger siblings tucked into bed with Quinn, who always offered to babysit, no questions asked. He remembered playing video games with Stevie, while Quinn braided Stacy's hair and told her elaborate stories of princesses and fairies. He remembered walking Quinn to her car and spending the last few minutes, chatting about Glee and sometimes, even Finn. People thought Sam and Quinn couldn't stand to be around each other after the breakup, but the truth was, when he really needed it, she had been the most caring and kindest best friend anyone could've asked for.

"Sam?" a voice broke his thoughts and he looked up, blinking back tears and shielding his eyes from the sunlight.

"Quinn," he murmured, standing up. She smiled back at him softly, her hazel eyes wide with curiosity. Dressed in a short, floral dress with combat boots, her hair fell in one long braid by her side and with the sun casting an angelic glow over her face, Sam was convinced the universe was playing a dirty trick with him.

"What are you doing here? Rachel's been trying to reach you," she held up her cell phone, turning it over in her fingers.

"Oh, I left my phone back at the hotel. I just…needed to clear my head," he fumbled along his words, running his hand over the back of his neck, realizing that he probably looked disgusting after his run.

"Yeah, I understand that," she mumbled, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. She turned around and took a long, hard look at the motel, before fixing her gaze on him. "You ended up here?"

"I wasn't really thinking," he shrugged. "What are you doing here?"

"I…I come here sometimes," she sighed, taking a seat on the curb he had occupied before. Sam didn't quite know what to do with himself, so he took a seat next to her.

"Yeah?"

"I know it's strange, I mean, this place probably has a lot of bad memories for you…" she trailed off. "But I like coming here sometimes. It reminds me of the person I used to be. The person I could be," she shrugged her shoulders and when Sam stole a quick glance, he saw a shadow of doubt and insecurity cross her face. _'There it was,' _he thought to himself. Beyond the façade Quinn Fabray liked to put up, there was a fragile heart that had been put through more than it could bear.

"I have good memories here, too," he offered.

"Like what?"

"Well, there was that random heat wave, and you brought over a tub of ice cream and a cooler full of ice cubes. And we were sitting in the park when out of nowhere, Stevie decides to dump a handful of ice cubes over your head," Sam chuckled, remembering the way Quinn's jaw had dropped and she had screamed playfully.

"Oh my gosh, that was horrible! I mean, the cold was nice, but being surprised like that…" she giggled. "Aw, I miss Stevie. How is he? And Stacy?"

"They're good. They like New Jersey and I let them turn my room into a play room, so they're happy," he grinned, thinking of his younger siblings.

"I'm glad everything worked out for you and your family, Sam," she said genuinely, looking up at him behind her long eyelashes. "I haven't been able to say that, especially after we left everything, but I'm…I'm happy everything got better,"

"Thanks, Quinn," he shot her a lopsided smile that made her feel weak in the knees. "You know, you could always come up to New York, we could visit Jersey and see everyone. I know the kids will love seeing you," he added.

"Oh, I don't know,"

"Why not?"

"I just…I don't see myself getting out of Lima anytime soon, that's all," Quinn bit her lip, holding back the tears that always seemed to fall whenever the subject was approached. Sam raised his eyebrows, prompting her to elaborate. "My mom is here and there's Puck…and the possibility that Shelby can always contact me here. I have school and a job here…my life is here,"

"It doesn't have to be," Sam said. Quinn looked up into his green eyes and like always, her heart started pounding. There was a way he could make her feel, with just one short glance. It was as if whenever she was around him, Quinn felt safe and protected, but free and reckless, at the same time. As if no matter where she let go, he would always be there to catch her. He shifted slightly and in mere seconds, Quinn felt his soft hair brush against her forehead. She felt herself inhale sharply, but before she opened her mouth to respond, her phone beeped, the noise cutting through the silence between them. Quinn saw Sam flinch slightly and move away, as she pulled out her cell phone and noticed Puck's name flashing across the screen.

"I have to…um…" she stumbled, staring at the phone in her hands, as if the name was completely foreign to her.

"It's okay, go ahead," Sam sighed, running both his hands through his hair in frustration, leaning back onto the grass as Quinn hopped up and walked several feet away to take the call. _'Puck,' _he thought, cursing himself internally. How could he have forgotten? Sam stole a quick glance at Quinn, watching her as she paced the empty parking lot, her free hand twirling the ends of her hair nervously. He was falling for her, all over again, he knew it. But Puck…Puck would always be in the picture and Sam would always be the odd one out. He had left and life had moved on, Quinn had moved on. He couldn't blame her for it, but for the first time since he had landed in Lima, Sam was starting to feel like maybe Ohio wasn't home anymore.

"Sorry, that was…Rachel stopped by the house looking for me," Quinn said, settling down next to Sam, eager to pick up where they had left off. She was taken aback when he jumped up and distanced himself away from her, as if she was toxic. "Sam?" she asked worriedly.

"You and Puck are still together," he stated simply.

"I'm…"

"You and Puck are still together," Sam repeated, feeling his anger and irritation bubble up inside of him. "True or false?"

"True," Quinn responded, after a short pause. "But Sam, it's not going to last, Puck and I, we're not…we're not right for each other," she added quickly.

"But you're still together. Living together, dating each other…_together_," he spat out the last word, hating the way it sounded. Quinn averted her eyes – she rarely saw Sam get mad, and it never failed to surprise her how intense and scary his voice got.

"I don't…"

"Damnit, Quinn!" Sam cried, whacking the palm of his hand against the street lamp's pole. "You don't get it! This is the exact same thing you did in high school!"

"Sam, high school's over, I just…"

"No," he shook his head. "You don't want to break up with Puck unless you have me. You don't like moving on if there's nothing to move on to. And I'm not going to be what Finn or Puck was for you…I won't. I can't do that to them, I can't do that to myself, and I can't do that to you," he said, his voice softer and gentler. Quinn felt tears spring to her eyes and she bit her lip, trying to blink them away, but it was no use – Sam saw the drops fall onto her pretty dress and when she looked up at him, he saw the streaks across her cheeks.

"When you left, there was nothing to move on to. There was _nothing left_," she stammered, standing and looking up into his light green eyes.

"Quinn…" he started, letting his heart get the best of him. No matter what, it was as if his resolve melted away at the sight of her being vulnerable. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left Lima without telling you guys…especially you," he murmured, drying her tears away with the pad of his thumb softly. "But I can't do this. Not when you're still with Puck. As much as I want to – god, do I want to – I can't," he whispered. Pressing a chaste kiss against her forehead, he gave her one last look and walked away, leaving Quinn in an empty parking lot and a mess to fix.

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><p>The rain slammed hard against the windows of the hotel, making haphazard formations on the glass. Inside his room, Sam's fingers fumbled for the whiskey bottle underneath the bar counter. He took a short swig of the liquid, feeling it burn his throat and numb the tears that he was choking back. After leaving Quinn, he had kept himself occupied with errands, before finally making it back to his hotel later that night. The empty space made it hard for him to breathe and Sam felt as if the whole world was slowly caving in on him. Did he really refuse Quinn, the girl he would always be in love with? Because that's what it was – <em>love<em>. As much as it scared Sam to say it, there was no other word he could think of.

He set the bottle down and wandered aimlessly, turning on the TV and letting a rerun of a football game play in the background. Before he could flop onto the bed to get comfortable, the sound of a bell pierced through the noise and in a flash, his hand was on the handle, yanking back to open the heavy door.

"Quinn?"

She was drenched in rain from head to toe, her dress clinging to her curves and her blonde hair falling over her shoulders in thick, almost brown, strands. She was holding her arms tightly against her body and as she looked up at him, Sam saw the puffy, red eyes he knew so well.

"I didn't know where else to go," she managed, her voice small and hesitant. Sam nodded, before stepping back to let her in. She stood quietly, as if she was afraid to take up any more space.

"What happened? Is everything okay?" Sam asked, worried and concerned. Grabbing the blanket off the bed, he wrapped it gently around her shoulders and continued to rub her arms, trying anything to get her to stop shaking so violently.

"Puck…we got into a huge fight," she mumbled dazedly.

"What happened?"

"He said he knows you being back in town is messing with my head. He knows I'm not happy,"

"Quinn…"

"I should be okay with it. I wanted us to break up. But we just got into this huge fight and he threw a vase at the wall and it broke and I have nowhere to go…" Quinn stammered, a fresh wave of tears coming to her again. Without a second thought, Sam pulled her in close and she tucked her head into the space between his chin and shoulder, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

"You got home okay?" he asked her softly, after several minutes of silence.

"I don't know where home is anymore," she whispered, looking up into his eyes.

_Lay your head on my pillow,_

_I sit beside you on the bed,_

_Don't you think it's time we say_

_Some things we haven't said?_

_It ain't too late to get back to that place_

_Back to where, we thought it was before_

_Why don't you look at me?_

_Till we ain't strangers anymore_


	5. Chapter 4: Once in a Lifetime

**Hi everybody! Okay, well first off: thanks so much for all the feedback! I really appreciate it and some of you guys are just so incredibly nice. 3. Second: I am SO sorry it's taken me so long to put the fourth chapter up! It's been crazy over here, but I had some free time tonight, so here it is! And also - SQUEE about Chord Overstreet maybe coming back to Glee! =D I'm not getting my hopes up since there's no real confirmation, but still - that's the BEST news ever. Chordy is so loved.**

**Definitely not my favorite chapter in the entire world, but it works for now. Lol. This fic won't be super long (not like It Isn't Over, which is taking for-ev-er) and I kind of know how I want it to end, so you guys won't be tying up loose ends! =) **

**So anyhoo, here it is! Obviously, I don't own Glee or Sam or Quinn or any characters. Nor do I own Keith Urban. He belongs to Nicole Kidman.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: Once in a Lifetime<strong>

Sam woke up the next morning with a dull weight on his chest and the sunlight streaming in through the flimsy curtains, coating his bare torso in delicious warmth. He blinked several times, getting his eyes used to the onset of light, and looked down at the blonde hair that fanned out underneath his chin. Quinn was breathing evenly, the corners of her mouth tilted upwards slightly, as if she were smiling in her dreams. He heard a small, contented sigh fall out of her lips and Sam grinned lazily – he had never thought that after only several days in Lima, they would be able to pick up where they had left off.

"Mmm," Quinn murmured, her eyelids fluttering open. He felt her arm tense around his waist, then pull back slowly, before looking up at him.

"Morning,"

"Hi," her shoulders relaxed and she snuggled into the crook of his neck, breathing him in deeply. Sam smiled, running his free hand up and down her other arm, relishing in the way her body fit perfectly against his. Memories of the previous night flooded his thoughts – lips fighting each other for dominance, limbs tangled, clothes thrown, and finally, there was the easy calm he had felt, as he watched her drift off. He had never felt more content or more relaxed.

"It's going to be a long day," he mumbled against her hair, pecking her lightly on the forehead.

"Yeah, it is," Quinn sighed. Taking a deep breath, she pulled herself up to sitting position, the blankets wrapped around her. "I should probably get going," she said, avoiding Sam's surprised expression. "Rachel's going to need a lot of help getting ready for the rehearsal dinner tonight and I should probably…"

"Deal with Puck?" he offered, his eyebrows raised questioningly. They had talked about their breakup the night before, how Puck and Quinn verbally sparred each other, before collapsing and admitting defeat. They had had a more civil breakup than most people, but still, as Quinn had pointed out to Sam – a breakup was still a breakup and even more so if the couple were living together.

"Something along those lines," she muttered, running a hand through her hair. "I'm a mess," she sighed.

"No, you're not," Sam said, grasping her wrist gently. "You're just a little confused,"

"Try a lot," she shot him a half-hearted smile, before climbing over his body and hopping off the bed. "Is that the time?" she gestured towards the clock sitting on the side table. Sam nodded, stretching his arms above his head, happily watching Quinn get dressed. "It's almost 11! I'm supposed to be at Rachel's!" she cried in a panic, her jaw dropping. Sam snickered, finding it incredibly amusing, watching her putt around the hotel room, picking up her discarded clothing.

"You're missing your cardigan, it's on the door," he pointed out.

"How in the world…?" she yanked it off the handle and slipped it over her head. "I gotta go!" Stuffing her feet into her flats, she stumbled out of the bedroom, leaving Sam behind with a lot on his mind. _'__Things __to __do: __Tell __Mike __what __happened. __Talk __to __Puck. __Talk __to __Finn. __Talk __to __Quinn__…__oh,__and __shower,__' _he thought, sitting up and pausing, relishing in the way the sunlight hit his shoulders warmly.

But before he could get up from the bed, Sam heard the front door being flung open and his eyes widened when he saw Quinn rush back in. She gave him a long, slow kiss on the lips, grinned, and left as quickly as she came.

"Bye!"

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><p>She stumbled into the restaurant gracelessly, bags slung over both her shoulders and her hair a wild, tangled mess. Still, there was a smile on her face that reached all the way up to her eyes, even when she spotted the petite brunette, who looked ready to commit murder.<p>

"Where in the world have you been?" she screamed, stomping over to Quinn. "Do you know you're two hours late? Two hours!"

"Rach, I know and I'm sorry, but things were nuts last night and I had to go back home and pick up my stuff…" Quinn explained helplessly, dropping the bags on a chair nearby and running a tired hand through her hair. She kept her garment bag close to her, clutching it safely against her chest – if there was one thing Rachel could find fault in, it would definitely be the maid of honor dress.

"You had to go back home?" Tina piped up, walking over to join the conversation. "Where were you?"

"Sneaking out for a late night rendezvous, Fabray?" Santana asked wickedly, grinning at her from across the room.

"Quinn?" Rachel asked meekly.

"I was…out, okay? I was just out," the blonde shrugged, desperate to change the subject. "So what's been going on? Is everything alright?"

"Oh, here it goes," Mercedes huffed, rolling her eyes, before Rachel's voice filled the restaurant – panicked, nervous, and completely freakish.

"The flowers haven't arrived, the tables haven't been set, the dry-cleaners somehow lost Finn's suit for tonight, and I'm absolutely certain I'm hyperventilating!" Rachel screeched.

"Whoa, okay, calm down!" Quinn cried, grabbing the brunette's shaking shoulders and looking her in the eyes. "You. Need. To. Chill. Everything's going to work out, alright?"

"What am I supposed to do?" Rachel moaned.

"Let me handle it," Quinn shrugged, standing tall and pulling her hair into a high ponytail – a sure sign she was getting into the proper attitude to execute Rachel and Finn's rehearsal dinner. "Lauren, call the florist and tell them to get moving. Santana, Brittany, and Mercedes, tell the waiters to start setting the table and help them out. Tina, run through the guest list, make sure everything's on point. And I'll call Kurt to tell him to check on Finn's suit," she ordered, pulling out her cell phone. The other girls putted around the restaurant, leaving Rachel to collapse onto a nearby couch and sigh loudly.

"Quinn?"

"Yeah?"

"You and Puck broke up, didn't you?" Rachel's eyes were wide with curiosity, but at the same time, Quinn could tell that her friend intuitively knew.

"We did," she answered simply.

"You're happier. I can tell," Rachel nodded, a smile stretching across her lips. "Are you okay?" Quinn sighed, setting down her cell phone and crossing the room to sit next to her best friend. Smoothing out an imaginary wrinkle in her skirt, she turned to face Rachel and bit her lip nervously.

"I am," she breathed, letting the words roll of her tongue and feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. "The break up was messy, which was why I wasn't at home last night, but I went back this morning and we talked,"

"How did that turn out?"

"Really well," Quinn smiled softly, thinking back to several hours earlier. She had walked in on Puck sipping his coffee and after a few awkward silences; they had broken down their walls and laid everything out on the table. "Puck will always be in my life – that's a given. But we're better off as acquaintances. Friends," she added. "To be honest, we just weren't happy together. And now that we're not together anymore…well, we can tolerate each other better," Quinn chuckled. She noticed Rachel fidgeting in her seat and after a short pause, the brunette opened her mouth to speak.

"What about Sam?" she asked tentatively. At the sound of his name, Quinn instinctively sucked in her breath, trying to figure out how to answer her friend's question. Sam and Quinn. Quinn and Sam. It all seemed too good to be true, as if her relationship with Puck had ended just so she could move seamlessly into another one.

"Things with Sam are…indefinite, right now," she said, biting her grin back, as her thoughts wandered to the previous night. She remembered the feel of his arms wrapped protectively around hers, his breath hot against her neck.

"Quinn! Emergency!" Lauren's voice cut through the restaurant, panicked and urgent. "The florist is closed!" she cried. Quinn saw Rachel gasp in terror out of the corner of her eye and before the petite brunette could start raging through the restaurant, Quinn held her back and stood up purposefully.

"Let me handle this, alright? You and Finn have come too far to let some damn flowers ruin your wedding," she assured, coaxing Rachel back onto the couch, before sprinting towards the nearest florist she could think of.

* * *

><p>'<em>I'm crazy. This is nuts. He'll kill you. This is Puck, for crying out loud. He did time! This is suicide,'<em>

Sam's thoughts ran rampant and wild, as he paced back and forth in front of Puck and Quinn's house. It was a charming little townhouse, complete with a white fence and a small garden, but as Sam stared at the front door, it felt like he was about to enter a dungeon.

"Oh, suck it up, man, come on," he muttered to himself, before ringing the doorbell twice, regretting it instantly. Sam heard the footsteps on the other side and as the door pulled open, he wiped his hands on his jeans, suddenly very aware that he was sweating with fear.

"Hey," Puck nodded at him, before leaving the door wide open as an invitation for the blonde to enter. Sam's eyebrows rose skeptically, before stepping inside the house. He had braced himself for this moment – seeing Puck and Quinn's home. He expected pictures of them together, with Beth, with Shelby, with the Glee club back in high school, all in frames on every single surface imaginable. He expected warm rugs and tapestries, lit candles, and potpourri. He even expected a little puppy, maybe, just to fill out the image in his head. But as Sam crossed the threshold into the Puckerman-Fabray home, it became instantly clear that it wasn't Quinn's home at all. The walls were bare and there were no warm rugs or earthy tones, no ruffles or floral prints at all. Instead, Sam spotted a football tossed onto the couch and several pictures of Puck's grandmother and family – some of Beth – but none of him and Quinn together. Sam was starting to feel like maybe Quinn and Puck were right – it just wasn't working out between them.

Without knowing it, he had followed Puck right into the kitchen and being handed a water bottle. Taking a seat on a vacant stool, Sam gulped uncomfortably, wringing his hands, unsure of where or how to start. Luckily, Puck jumped straight into it.

"So…you and Quinn hooked up?" the question was so blunt and honest that it took Sam by surprise and caused him to choke on the water he had in his mouth.

"Uh…"

"Dude, it's okay," Puck laughed, reaching over and punching him playfully on the shoulder. "I told you we were breaking up, didn't I?"

"Well, yeah, but…" Sam stammered, at a complete loss for words. He had been prepared for anything, anything except total acceptance from Noah Puckerman. "Look, I didn't mean to cross a line between us," he added, as an afterthought.

"Sam, I _told_ you. Quinn and I just didn't go together well enough to make it work. She's a great girl and she's always going to be my baby mama," he paused to chuckle. "But she's never going to be the girl for me. We weren't happy and it's much better off this way," Puck assured the blonde, who was nervously picking at the paper on his water bottle.

"I just…"

"Look, if it makes you feel better, Quinn stopped by earlier this morning and we talked things out. Call me crazy, but I think she might still love you,"

"Puck, I…I don't even know what I'm doing," Sam exhaled loudly, running his fingers through his hair and leaning back. Before he could continue, the doorbell rang and Puck excused himself to answer it. Several seconds later, he walked back into the kitchen with Finn, Mike, and Artie bringing up the rear. "Hey, guys,"

"Sammy, my main man!" Artie punched him playfully on the thigh, before wheeling away towards the fridge.

"Rachel is freaking out, I need a break. Please tell me you've got something besides flower arrangements and lost tuxes," Finn pleaded, hopping up onto the kitchen counter.

"Actually, Sam was just going to tell me about him and Quinn," Puck announced, causing everyone in the room to perk up. After a hesitant pause, Sam quickly retold the story of Quinn showing up at his hotel room after the breakup and tried his hardest to contain the grin that spread across his lips, as he remembered their night together.

"I don't even know what I'm doing," he mumbled.

"Dude, finally!" Finn cried.

"What?"

"Do you know how long I had to sit and listen to Rachel babble about how you and Quinn were perfect for each other? You guys haven't been the same since you broke up – not even back in high school," Finn explained, his hands gesturing quickly and frantically. "It's like, you spent all this time apart, did stupid stuff, but now you're back in the same place. It's kind of like…"

"Fate," Mike stepped in. "It's like fate. Now the only thing is, if you guys can just put all this heavy drama stuff aside and just move on – be happy," he shrugged.

"Mike's right," Puck nodded. "I don't deserve Quinn, but you do,"

"Truth," Artie waved his hand in the air. "You guys are like...once in a lifetime. You're lucky you're getting a second chance, Sammy,"

Sam glanced at his friends, trying to take what they were saying to heart. It would be so easy to move on and be happy with Quinn – it was all he wanted, all he had ever dreamed of since he left Lima.

Maybe it wasn't that Lima was home. Maybe it was Quinn – the girl who stole his heart and never gave it back. And as Sam left Puck's house and drove back to his hotel room to get ready for the rehearsal dinner, he started going down memory lane. She was the girl who hummed in her sleep and who poured the milk before adding the cereal. She was the girl who understood his ability to compose songs in the shower and who never made fun of him for his slightly Southern accent. She was the girl who had listened to his Na'vi talk, his impressions, and all his lame jokes, she was the one who had told him never to change to get a girl to like him.

Maybe Quinn Fabray was home.

* * *

><p>The curls cascaded down her back, following her movements, as she shook hands and hugged guests as they strolled in. She held a champagne flute in one hand and when she saw the clock on the restaurant wall tick its way to 8 PM, Quinn spun on her heel and stalked towards the nearest couch, before flopping herself down tiredly.<p>

"I have been in these stupid shoes for like, six hours. I hurt," she pouted.

"Tell me about it," Tina groaned, rolling her ankles. "Rachel is sick and twisted. I don't even like this color,"

"Sacrifices," Quinn giggled, before kicking off the strappy heels for a quick second. The restaurant was filled to the brim with people, from Finn and Rachel's families to old McKinley High teachers. The rehearsal at the church had gone off spectacularly and they had moved to the restaurant easily – despite Rachel's unreasonable worries that people might get lost in the 5-minute walk it took between both venues. Still, aside from the occasional breakdown from the bride-to-be, Quinn grinned happily – she had made it work and she didn't even have to slip Rachel any tequila. _'__Well,__not__yet,__anyway,__'_ she thought.

"Where in the world are the boys?" Tina broke Quinn's thoughts and looking around, the blonde-haired girl noticed there was not one single man from their ex-Glee club to be seen.

"Huh, that's weird. Last I saw, Puck and Artie were trying to hit on Rachel's cousins. And weren't Kurt and Blaine just over by the buffet table?" she gestured to the now empty spot. "Oh, wait a second…" she started, as her gaze fell on the empty dance floor. She looked at Tina, who had followed Quinn's gaze.

"You don't think…"

"It's been so long since any of us..." Quinn and Tina looked at each other, wondering desperately if it was true, when suddenly, the lights shut off and a spotlight shone over the dance floor – including seven boys dressed in their sharpest suits.

"It is!" Tina cried.

"Oh my gosh!" Quinn heard Rachel squeal and she could've sworn she heard Mr. Schuester laugh, but no matter what, she just couldn't keep her eyes off the performance. They had launched into a Keith Urban number, complete with air guitar and knee slides and the whole thing was over-the-top and so beautiful, that when Finn gestured for Rachel to join him onstage, the rest of the Glee club went along with her.

Quinn found herself being twirled by Sam, resting her hand on his shoulders, singing along the words that she knew so well – after all, hadn't he introduced her to Keith Urban, after all? He spun her around two more times, before dipping her low and brushing his lips over her neck, sending tingles up her spine. She forced herself to look up at him and their gaze locked – she couldn't even remember what restaurant, what event, or who else was there with him. All she could think of was that it felt right, it felt real, and she felt _loved_. And as Quinn swayed slowly against Sam's chest, the song repeating itself again, she felt him sing softly against her ear, his breath hot and comforting against her neck, the beginning lines of the most beautiful melody.

_I can see it in your eyes_

_And feel it in your touch,_

_I know that you're scared,_

_But you've never been this loved…_


	6. Chapter 5: My Wish

**Hi everyone! First off, thanks so much for all the reviews and the kind words – always greatly appreciated. =) Secondly, how bloody excited is everyone for DECEMBER? Chordy is back! When I first heard the news, I swear, I nearly fell off my chair. Ah! Can't wait!**

**Anyway, so, the last chapter you saw how Sam and Quinn sort of dealing with the aftermaths of everything that's happened. This chapter sees a wedding, some serious talk, some cute moments, and hopefully, you'll like all of it! Enjoy & please don't forget to review! =)**

**Obviously, I don't own Glee or any of the characters, nor do I own Rascal Flatts (duh). Also, I wrote the bulk of this late at night, so if there are some things that are off (more specifically, the Jewish wedding traditions), my apologies! Also, if those of you who have this fic on alert got like, five different messages about a new chapter...sorry about that. FF was messing up, but I really wanted to get this up tonight, so here it is! =P**

* * *

><p><p>

**Chapter 5: My Wish**

The stars hung in the night sky, illuminating the rest of the city, as Puck, Sam, Brittany, and Artie lounged about on the upper deck of the restaurant, listening to the soft sounds of music and laughter from inside mixed with the noise of the streets below them. The Hudson-Berry rehearsal dinner was still in full swing and after the boys' upbeat Keith Urban number, the dance floor was packed with guests. The four had managed to escape up to the balcony for a little piece and quiet, shortly after Puck had stealthily swiped two bottles of bubbly. As Sam leaned back in his chair, his fingers clasped gently around the stem of the champagne flute, he breathed in the Ohio night air, grinning to himself.

"Why the big smile, Trouty Mouth?" Artie piped up, using the old nickname he had become famous for in high school.

"I forgot how good it was here. Lima's such a part of me," he mused, taking a small sip. "You guys ever miss it?" he asked. Sam knew Brittany was in California most of the time, running a dance studio, while Artie had been in Boston and Nashville recently, producing tracks for several upcoming artists. Their friends' wedding had brought them out of their real lives and gave them a chance to head back to where it had all started – where all their dreams were first realized.

"I miss Breadstix," Brittany answered seriously, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Sam stifled a giggle.

"Yeah, I miss my parents. I don't get out here as much as I want to," Artie chimed in. "What about you, Puck? Do you ever want to get out of here?"

"All the time," the boy with the Mohawk shrugged carelessly. "But this is home. My construction company's here, my family is here…I've got a good thing," he added, stealing a quick look over at Sam, who was gazing out at the view. "You know, it's one of the reasons Quinn and I didn't work out," Puck admitted. Sam whipped his head around to face his friend, a questioning look in his eyes.

"Oh?"

"I don't mind staying in Lima, I _like_ it here. But Quinn…she wants more. She _deserves_ more. Ever since she came back from California after her dad died, her heart doesn't really…fit with Ohio anymore," Puck thought aloud, lifting his beer bottle to his lips.

"I heard Santana talking about that earlier. Something about how she doesn't feel like she's a part of this town," Artie added.

"I always thought she was happy here," Sam leaned forward in his chair, dangling his champagne flute between his legs. It had been easy for him to forget that Quinn was the only one out of all their ex-Glee club friends who had fallen short of reaching her dreams. Rachel was on Broadway, Mike was still dancing, Santana was in the middle of shooting a TV show, and the rest of them still had one foot in the show-biz world. Even Finn, who didn't go to college for arts, was still teaching drums to his football players.

"I don't necessarily think she's unhappy. I just think she wants more," Puck corrected. Sam saw a fleeting look pass across his friend's face, a mixture of guilt and hope – guilt for keeping Quinn in Lima, but hope that one day she would find better. It was in that moment; Sam knew Puck was looking out for her, that he only wanted the best for her, and that the breakup really was a long time coming. "Speaking of Quinn, what is the deal with you guys?" he asked bluntly.

"Wh-what?"

"Oh, come on. Aside from that one dance, you two are avoiding each other like the Black Plague!" Artie piped up, joining the conversation.

"We're…taking things slow," he muttered, the answer coming out like more of a question. The truth was, Sam didn't quite know what he wanted out of Quinn. The hurt from high school and the cheating had all been pushed aside – he couldn't keep bringing it up when it was such a long time ago. All he really wanted to do was spend time with her, kiss her, and hold her in his arms, like he used to. He was pretty sure that if he could do just that, he could live a happy life.

"Alright, I'm all danced out. I don't care if Rachel has to drag me by the hair to get back on that floor, I am _not_ dancing anymore," a voice interrupted the silence that had fallen over the four friends and they all looked up to see Quinn, her hair disheveled and her heels dangling from her fingers.

"Speak of the devil," Brittany whispered softly, a grin spreading across her lips, before giving Sam and Quinn both knowing looks.

"Is it really packed down there?" Puck asked.

"It's nuts!" Quinn replied, leaning against the back of Sam's chair. He fidgeted slightly, feeling the heat radiate off her skin.

"I think it's time for a little fun," Artie said, wheeling his way back into the restaurant, followed quickly by Brittany. Puck gave the two blondes a mischievous grin, before heading back into the chaos, leaving Sam and Quinn out in the night air, finally alone.

"Well, that was subtle," she laughed, plopping herself onto an empty chair and promptly bringing her legs up to rest on Sam's lap. "What were you guys talking about?"

"You," he answered simply, running his free hand over her bare leg.

"How nice," she smirked, gathering her curls and pushing them off her shoulders to cool off. "You okay, Sam?" she asked, noticing he seemed distracted. After a hesitant pause, he turned to look at her.

"Are you happy here?"

"I don't think I'll ever be happy over the fact that I'm living with Puck, but I'm sure I could get a small apartment soon, or something," she shrugged.

"No, I meant…here, in Lima," he pressed. Quinn bit her lip, trying to formulate the right answer. How could she tell him that the one place he had ever felt was home – was nothing more than just a stopover for her?

"I'm…managing," she said, her voice quiet.

"Quinn,"

"Alright, so, I don't love it. But can you blame me? Look at why I had to move back here – my dad _died_, Sam. My mom was a wreck and I had to give up California, drop out, and I'm still doing college classes, when everybody else is already finished and working," she explained, her hands gesturing wildly. "It's not that I'm unhappy, I just…I just want more. I expected more,"

"That's what Puck said," a smile lifted Sam's lips and he leaned over to kiss her briefly on the cheek. The touch, even just for a second, sent tingles up Quinn's spine and she scooted closer to him.

"I know you think of Lima as home," she murmured against his bicep, before resting her chin on his shoulder, her face mere inches away from his. "All those times you used to talk about bringing Stacy and Stevie back here, about how you felt Glee club was the only place you ever felt accepted…I know this is home for you. But it's not for me. You might have figured that out, but I haven't. At least, not yet,"

"Lima's a big part of my life, I'll give you that," he grinned. "But New York is where my life is now and…hey, it's pretty rad," he chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Oh, Sam, no one ever says that anymore," she groaned.

"Well, I do," he said defensively, bringing his arm up to wrap around Quinn's shoulders. He pulled her in close, kissing the top of her head and she instantly grabbed his champagne flute, taking a sip without question. She grinned mischieviously at him, before pressing their lips together in a soft kiss and resting her head on his chest. Together, they gazed out at the stars, both wishing on the biggest and brightest one – that this wouldn't be the end.

* * *

><p><p>

"I can't find my other shoe!"

"I lost a contact!"

"Quinn! How do you turn this stupid alarm off?"

Panicked screeches rang throughout the Puckerman-Fabray household, as Quinn puttered from room to room. It was officially the day of Rachel and Finn's anticipated wedding and as the blonde jiggled the dial of the house alarm to stop the incessant ringing; she couldn't help but smile at the welcomed chaos. She had offered the house as Rachel's bridal party headquarters a long time ago and she loved the intrusion – most of the time, the house was far too big and too quiet for just two people. Puck had stayed over at Mike and Tina's rented apartment and Quinn only managed to get several minutes to herself before Hurricane Rachel touched down. Making her way up the stairs, she headed straight for the master bedroom, cracking open the door.

Rachel Berry, usually hurried and rushed and panicky, was sitting calmly at the edge of the bed, her fingers trailing over the delicate lace that trickled down her wedding gown. Her hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders and before Quinn could stop herself, a tear rolled down her cheek.

"She looks beautiful, doesn't she?" a voice whispered behind her.

"She really does," Quinn whispered back, sensing the rest of the Glee girls behind her. Opening the door the rest of the way, she stepped inside the room. "Hey, you okay?"

"I'm…I'm getting married," Rachel stuttered.

"Yes, you are,"

"I'm…" she trailed off, looking down at her wedding gown again. "How in the world did this happen?" she chuckled, sniffling slightly.

"Oh, you wanted this to happen since you first laid eyes on him in junior year," Tina grinned.

"And when you decided to steal him from me," Quinn added, a glint in her eyes. It was amazing how it had all worked out in the end – there were only a handful of moments you could really step back and look at how far you had come. The arrival of Beth was one of them and now, Quinn knew this wedding would be another. "You look beautiful, by the way. Finn isn't going to know what hit him," she smiled comfortingly.

"God, I hope so. I'm nervous, but scarily calm. Is that normal?" Rachel asked, getting up to look at herself in the mirror.

"Well, since none of us are married yet, we can't help you. But I like to think it's perfectly normal," Tina said.

"Oh, please. You and that other Asian are totally tying the knot next," Santana rolled her eyes, causing the room to erupt in giggles.

"Or, Sam and Quinn," Rachel said softly, giving her best friend a comforting squeeze of the hand.

"Barbie and Ken, how charming," Santana commented.

"We're not…we just started testing the waters again," Quinn said defensively, despite the fact that images of Sam proposing had already crossed her mind more than once. "Besides, he lives in New York City, remember?" she sighed, crossing the room to sit herself on a lounge chair.

"So?"

"So, I live here. Our lives are a hundred miles apart. And it's like I said, we're just testing the waters,"

"Oh, right," Santana rolled her eyes again. "You guys were all over each other last night – don't think me and Britt didn't see you!"

"It's true. 100 percent true," Brittany nodded. Quinn took a quick look at her friends, all of whom were waiting for her to say something. Sucking in her breath, she opened her mouth.

"Okay, fine, I'll give you that," she sighed. "But you know what? After this wedding is over, a couple of days from now, Sam hops on a plane and goes back to New York, because he has a life there. He has a job and he plays in bars and he teaches kids the guitar and he has his spots in the city that he loves and his family is just a train ride away. He lives in New York City – that's his home," she rambled. "I live in Lima. I will always live in Lima, because my mom is here and Shelby can find me here and I have to finish classes. That's just the way it is, okay?" she threw her hands up in frustration, pouting slightly and leaning back in her chair, careful not to crumple her dress. Five pairs of eyes stared right back at her, the silence hanging in the air, until Santana decided to speak up.

"No. Your life is not here, Q," she said stubbornly. "Geez, we've only been here a couple of days and even we can tell! Your life – and God only knows why this is – is wherever that Trouty Mouth boy is,"

"She's right, Quinn. You don't have a reason to stay in Lima. Shelby and your mom can easily contact you from anywhere in the world. You could easily pack up and move to New York, even back to California if you wanted to. You got stuck, but that doesn't mean you have to be stuck here forever," Rachel said soothingly. Quinn looked at her friends, blinking back tears.

She knew it would be easy to just leave Lima, but a part of her felt so safe here, even if she didn't fit just right. And how many times had she fantasized about running away to the Big Apple to find Sam? It would all fit perfectly, she knew. But something in her heart told her not to leave just yet, because Lima, as much as she hated to admit it – was home.

"You know what? We don't have to talk about this now," Tina interrupted Quinn's thoughts. "We have a wedding to get to, people! Rachel's getting married and we are going to be late if we don't get our butts moving _now_," she clapped her hands together and the girls started shuffling around the room, gathering all the essentials for the ceremony. As Quinn got up and shot her friends a reassuring smile, she couldn't help but think that maybe, her friends were right. Could she really pack up her life and move? More importantly, would Sam even want her to?

* * *

><p><p>

The sun shone bright that afternoon, casting warmth over the outdoor decorations, from the garden chairs to the beautiful flowered arch (which Sam later found out was a _chuppah_) that stood at the end of the spacious backyard. From where Sam was standing, he could see Blaine ushering guests to their seats and Mike was having a spirited discussion with the DJ over in the reception area.

"I can't believe this is actually happening," Finn muttered under his breath, tugging on his cufflinks uncomfortably.

"You're not getting cold feet, are ya?" Sam joked, slapping a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. They were standing underneath the wedding arch and Sam saw a bustle of movement coming from the front of the house. _'__The__girls__must__be__here,__' _he thought excitedly.

The previous night, after the rehearsal dinner had ended, Sam had dropped Quinn off at home (despite his attempts at persuading her to stay over again) and had only managed to steal away for a few kisses. After that, Mike had texted him and in a matter of minutes, he somehow ended up at a sketchy karaoke bar, watching Finn and Kurt do a bizarre rendition of Sonny and Cher's 'I've Got You, Babe.' Needless to say, it had been an entertaining night, especially when he woke up the next morning in Mike and Tina's rented apartment, grateful that Tina had opted to stay at Quinn's.

"No, it's just…you spend months and months planning it – well, Rachel did, anyway – and it's finally here. You never think it'll actually happen," Finn mumbled, running a hand through his short hair. Sam snuck a quick glance at his best friend, noticing that he was indeed, nervous. But there was something more. Finn was excited and for that, Sam couldn't help but grin. He and the rest of the Glee club had been rooting for Finn and Rachel since high school and after so many obstacles and bumps in the road – it was finally here.

"Well, it's happening, dude. Fate and all that," Sam shrugged.

They talked for several minutes, until Kurt gathered them back into the house, where Finn was careful not to run into his bride-to-be. After knocking back a tequila shot to calm the groom's nerves, the wedding planner announced the start of the ceremony and before Sam knew it, he was standing in between Kurt and Puck, watching Finn and Rachel say their vows.

The words they chose to use for each other brought tears to all the guests and Sam swore he even saw Puck choke back a sniffle or two. They were honest, open, and raw – words of wisdom and love, intermixed with funny anecdotes about high school and college. Sam couldn't help but say a little prayer, hoping and wishing that one day, he would find a love as genuine as theirs. As he watched his best friends repeat the words of the rabbi back to each other, he stole a quick look across Kurt's shoulder to the bride's side. _'__She__'__s__beautiful,__' _he thought to himself, memorizing the way Quinn's hair tumbled in soft tendrils that framed her face, the way her red dress clung to the shape of her body, and the way her eyes gazed right back at him. He nearly lost it when she bit his lip and smirked at him, only able to give her a goofy grin back. Before Sam could mouth anything to her, Finn was already stomping on the glass and the couple kissed, walking hand in hand back down the aisle.

* * *

><p><p>

"Unfair," he murmured, wrapping his arms around her waist and pecking her lightly on the skin of her exposed neck. He felt her shiver and he smiled against her ear, inhaling the familiar scent of her.

"What's unfair?" she mumbled back, setting her champagne down and turning around in his arms to face him. The ceremony had been beautiful and sweet, and the reception wasn't turning out bad, either. Kurt, Carol, Burt, and the wedding planners from New York had executed such a perfect, truly Rachel and Finn-esque event that it had sufficiently taken Quinn's mind off the fact that Sam's time in Lima was limited.

She had been blown away by the pretty decorations, but when she saw him at the end of the aisle, the image of Sam getting down on one knee completed itself – suddenly, she saw him standing in Finn's place and instead of wearing a pretty red dress, she was the one who was in a wedding gown.

"The fact that I've barely seen you the whole night," he pouted. "I know Rachel's got you on a leash, but could I steal you for a bit?" he chuckled, tightening his grip around her waist. Quinn smiled and stroked his cheek affectionately.

"She does not have me on a leash. It's just that I know her family and Finn's family and there are a lot of people to say hi to,"

"You didn't say hi to me,"

"Well…not _yet_," she grinned, going up on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck. She pulled him in close so their foreheads were touching. "Hi," she whispered, before pressing a long, languid kiss to his lips. After several tantalizingly too-short seconds, they pulled apart and Quinn felt a surge of pride when she saw that his cheeks were flushed red.

"That definitely beats the greeting I got from Finn's Aunt Marie," he chuckled, running a hand through his hair. He grasped her hand and they made their way to the empty porch swing, settling down comfortably. With the wedding in full swing, Sam could see Finn and Rachel on the dance floor, closely followed by Mike and Tina. He saw Blaine and Kurt chatting happily with Artie and Mercedes, while Lauren and Puck were in deep conversation with Brittany and Mr. Schue. For a minute, it felt like they were all back in high school, but all Sam had to do was take a look at the white wedding dress on Rachel and it all came back to reality – they were married and after several more days, they would all be heading off to different parts of the country again. It was cruel, being thrown together for such a short time before being pulled apart. As if she could read his mind, Quinn spoke up softly, her breath hot against his neck.

"You're leaving soon," she said quietly.

"In two days," he nodded.

"I don't want you to go. I just got you back," she complained childishly. Sam dropped a kiss on her head and sighed.

"Same here,"

"Sam?" she asked.

"Mmm?"

"I probably should have asked you this before, but…you haven't got anybody waiting on you back home, have you?" she said as quickly as possible, pushing herself off his chest. He stared at her for a brief second, before chuckling softly to himself.

"No, there isn't anyone else," he laughed, pulling her back into his arms.

"You can't blame me for asking," she shrugged, smiling at his response. They stayed like that for a while, watching the wedding party go on and on. More than once, their friends, persuading them to sing a song or get on the dance floor, interrupted them but Sam and Quinn declined – after six long years, they were making up for lost time. It wasn't until the lanterns were lit and the stars illuminated the sky that Sam looked down at the young woman in his arms and decided to talk about what was bothering him.

"So, in two days, I'll be on a plane back to New York," he said casually, feeling her nod against his chest. "Come with me," he reached down and lifted her chin to face him and looked directly into her eyes, a serious expression written over his face.

"You want…what?" Quinn pulled back, stunned by his request. It had been all she wanted, to run away with Sam, but everything she had told Rachel and the girls before the wedding ceremony was still true – her life was in Lima and she would always believe that.

"Well, you always said you wanted to experience the city, right? And I figure, since you don't have any responsibilities here…"

"No responsibilities?" she interrupted him, a dull anger rising in her voice. "Sam, I have…I have school. And a part-time job. And my mom and Shelby. I can't just pack up and _leave_," she pointed out, crossing her arms across her chest defiantly.

"Whoa, okay, scary Quinn," he muttered under his breath jokingly, before sucking in a breath and reaching for her again. "Quinn, just take a minute and really look at all those reasons. You can pick up school and a part-time job in New York and your mom and Shelby can contact you there, too. I don't know if you noticed, but the city does have phones," he gave her a lopsided smile.

"Sam, I…"

"I know it's crazy, because this…this isn't even official or anything. We're just picking up from where we left off, I know it's nuts. But I want you to think about it," he grasped her shoulders gently, forcing her to face him. "I know you want more, Quinn. We all know it, we can see it in your eyes. And we all want that for you. I want that for you and I know you want it, too. You just have to take a chance on it," he encouraged, wiping away the stray tear that rolled down her cheek. She sniffled and placed her forehead against his, breathing deeply.

It would be so easy, she knew that. But a part of her, and she wasn't quite sure what part, couldn't find the strength to leave behind what she knew and what she was comfortable with. Despite the fact that she didn't fit in with Lima, it was still her home, the place where she had grew up and became the person she was. Would moving to a different city mean finding out the person she could be?

"I'll think about," she finally said, giving him a weak smile. Sam grinned and gave her a sweet kiss on the lips, wrapping his arm around her. As the night fell around them and the sky sparkled with stars, they heard a familiar song being sung by a slightly intoxicated Blaine, who had decided to grab the mic. As Sam rubbed Quinn's shoulders gently, he couldn't help but sing back the lyrics to her, meaning every word he said.

_My wish for you,_

_Is that this life becomes all that you want it to,_

_Your dreams stay big, your worries stay small,_

_You never need to carry more than you can hold._

_And while you're out there gettin' where you're gettin' to,_

_I hope you know somebody loves you_

_And wants the same things too…_


	7. Chapter 6: This Is Really Happening

**Hi everyone! Thanks so much to everybody who has reviewed and read this story, it means so much to me, you have no idea. This is my first multi-chapter fic to Sam/Quinn and to think it's gotten this much great response is really overwhelming, so from the bottom of my heart...thank you! =) And also, I'm sure all of you are positively rejoicing over Chord's official return to Glee! I'm so excited and December cannot get here faster! =P**

**Anyway, here is Chapter 6! Crazy, right? Lol. I hope you guys like this, I really enjoyed writing this particular chapter, mostly because it all kinda flowed together without me even realizing it! Haha. Again, I finished this late at night, so I apologize in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes!**

**Obviously, I don't own Glee or any of its characters. I also don't own Taylor Swift (the song used in this chapter is an unreleased song, just FYI).**

**I also need to apologize again, if those of you who have this fic on alert, if you got multiple new chapter updates. is being really weird on my Mac, so it might have sent the alert twice. =S Anyway, happy reading! =D**

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><p><span><strong>Chapter 6: This Is Really Happening<strong>

Letting his hotel room door fall shut by itself, Sam crossed the spacious room and opened his laptop, quickly signing into Skype. He had gotten home late the night before, having spent it dancing (and okay, getting maybe just a little bit wasted) at the wedding and had stumbled into the hotel at 3 in the morning. But as soon as the clock turned 8, he had hopped out of bed, pulled on his sneakers, and gone for a run around the block, before using the hotel gym to get in a workout. And if it hadn't been for the girls who had stopped to ask him for his number (he had politely refused, of course), Sam would've gotten up to his room in time to Skype with his family in New Jersey.

"Hi, sweetie!" his mother's face appeared on his computer screen and Sam grinned from ear to ear at her voice.

"Hey, mom!" he waved excitedly, running a hand through his hair, trying to get it under control.

"Oh, Sam, you look awful. And why are you late? I thought we said you'd call us at eleven?" she scolded.

"I know, I know! I was at the gym and I got held up," he explained. "How are things? Where's dad?"

"Daddy's at work and the kids are in the TV room, finishing up a show. How are you? How's Lima? Tell me all about Finn and Rachel's wedding!" she clapped her hands enthusiastically and Sam couldn't help but laugh at his over-excited mother. He quickly filled her in on the wedding and the events leading up to it, happy to see that she was listening intently.

"So yeah, they're finally married, which is totally crazy. Anyway, I should be back in New York by the end of the week," he fiddled with his phone, leaning back in his chair and hesitating, before adding, "And I'll probably head on up to Jersey sometime next week?"

"Perfect, it'll be close to Stevie's birthday, so we can have an early celebration," she smiled softly, making a note in the day planner beside her. "How did things go with…Quinn?" Mrs. Evans spoke carefully, knowing the subject could bring a total freeze-out from her son. She didn't quite expect the reaction she got, though.

"They went amazing! Mom, it was like…everything kind of just picked up where we left off, you know? I mean, yeah, she was with Puck, but they broke up and I feel like we're finally on the right track," he gushed, running a hand through his hair, a grin across his lips – it was infectious, his mother couldn't stop smiling back at him, either.

"That's really fantastic, sweetie," she adjusted the computer screen slightly, before plopping her chin on the palm of her hand. "You said she was with Puck?"

"Yeah, they kind of just fell together,"

"I don't understand,"

"When she came back to Lima, I guess she didn't really have anybody and they just sort of fell into a relationship. They haven't been working out for a while – Mercedes says that me being back in Lima is like the…catalyst?" he scrunched up his nose, wondering if that was the right word she had used. Sam saw his mother nodding along with the story and for a minute, his heart swelled with pride. His family could've easily split apart during their hardest times, but because of the woman on his laptop screen, the Evans family had only gotten stronger. Sam touched base nearly every week and his parents were still number one and two on his phone's speed dial. Being nearly homeless had thankfully, brought them much closer.

"Well, as long as you're happy and you're treating each other right. You know I've always loved Quinn," Mrs. Evans winked at her son, a happiness falling over her. It wasn't that she thought Sam would never get settled. But it was clear to see that his heart never quite recovered from his breakup with Quinn and since then, she had struggled, watching him flit from one irrelevant girl to another. "Oh, sweetie, before I forget, do you remember the Wheelers?"

"Um…" Sam racked his brain for a face, knowing the name sounded familiar.

"They moved into our house when the bank…well, you know," Mrs. Evans shrugged, shaking off the bad memories, happy a look of realization cross across her son's face so she wouldn't have had to explain it any further. "Anyways, they were kind enough to let us use some of the attic space to keep our things, but when we moved, all that stuff was forgotten. I figured, since you're already there, if you could go back and pick them up? I don't want to cause the Wheelers any more trouble,"

"Oh, sure, that's no problem,"

"It's mostly just some of the kids' old stuff, a couple of books, and maybe some clothes. Just ship them back to Jersey – I'm sure Stace and Stevie would love to see their things again," she leaned back in her chair, grinning at her son, proud of who he had turned out to be. She had been worried – being almost homeless at 17 years old was the kind of thing that could put you on a downward spiral – but Sam had skipped the rebellious stage and gone straight to being a man. Before she could tell him how proud she was, Mrs. Evans felt a pair of arms attack her from behind, while a smaller figure jumped onto her lap.

"Stacy! Stevie!" the blonde boy on the computer screen waved his hands excitedly at the sight of his younger siblings. "How are you guys?"

"Hi, Sammy!" his little sister cried enthusiastically, pressing her face to the screen. Sam laughed, as he saw his brother pull her away so the three family members came back into view. "Guess what? Stevie has a girlfriend!" Stacey shouted, laughing hysterically, her ponytail bobbing up and down. Sam saw his brother move to punch her on the shoulder, but before he could say anything, Stevie had stopped mid-punch, his mouth falling open.

"Quinn!"

"Whoa, what? Quinn's not here, guys," Sam frowned, before catching his mother's gaze, which was directed somewhere above his shoulder. Looking up, he came into contact with Quinn's soft lips for a quick kiss and he groaned inwardly as she slid her arms around his neck and onto his chest, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"Hi, Stacey! Hi, Stevie! Hi, Mrs. Evans! It's so good to see you all!" she greeted them with a bright smile and for the next several minutes, answered all their questions. Sam shot her a look that told her she could wait in the next room until he finished up, but she didn't mind – after all, it had been so long since she had had a proper family conversation. And despite the fact that she and Sam weren't even near to being engaged, she couldn't help but feel more comfortable with his parents and siblings than her own.

Several minutes later, after goodbyes and promises to keep in touch were said, Sam tucked his laptop away neatly and walked out to the living room, where Quinn was. Her legs curled underneath her and her blonde hair fanning out over the back of the couch, she felt more at home in a generic hotel suite than in the actual house she lived in.

"Hey, you," Sam murmured, brushing his lips over her hair, before swinging his legs over the back of the couch and settling down comfortably, resting his head in her lap. She grinned down at him and ran her fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead and shivering slightly, as he gazed at her, his green eyes sparkling. Quinn hadn't felt protected or safe in so long – ever since her father's death, she had adopted a darker outlook on the world – but with Sam back, it was as if everything around her had color again.

"Hey,"

"So, how was last night?" he smirked.

"It was fine," she shrugged. "You could've stayed over, you know," she wrinkled her nose in thought. Sam shook his head, remembering the previous night and how badly he had wanted to crash at her place, tangled up in her arms, but he knew it was too soon – especially since Puck was there, too.

"I just think it would've moved too fast…for Puck," he added awkwardly.

"You know he's okay with it. Besides, he got in this morning – he hooked up with one of Rachel's college friends," she giggled.

"Nice," Sam chuckled, earning a swift, playful punch from Quinn on the shoulder. "Did you ask him about living there until you get a place?"

"Yeah, he said it was fine, he's not too fussed about it," she shrugged.

"Cool. Although, you know the offer to come with me to New York is always open…" he suggested, trailing off his sentence with a hopeful look in his eyes.

"Sam," Quinn warned. She knew he wanted her to go with him, but with too many pros and cons, she didn't quite know what she wanted.

"It was just a suggestion," he smiled, pecking her lightly on her fingertips. "So, what are we doing today? Any best friend duties we need out of the way?"

"Nope. Well, not until tonight, anyway,"

"Yeah, I got Finn's text," he reached over to the coffee table to pick up his phone and pulled up the message he received several hours earlier. "Drinks at Bella's…that's not a person's house, right?"

"No, it's not," Quinn giggled, her hair falling down her face. "It's this bar near Breadstix, we used to go there during senior year,"

"You'd think that since they're married, they might…I don't know, go on their honeymoon?"

"Rachel said something about how it's super rare that we're all in one place, so they're making the most of it. Are you complaining?"

"Well, no. But I just thought they'd be off to Hawaii by now or something," he shrugged, running his fingers over her bare legs carelessly.

"Good. Because you know, it's not like you have anybody else in Lima you could hang out with anyway," she teased, tugging at his hair playfully.

"Hey! That's mean! You know, I know some kids from when I was working at the pizza place. And the kids from church. And I bet Mr. Schue wouldn't mind…"

Quinn cut him off with a kiss, pulling him up to meet her lips harshly and pressing her body to his. After several breathless seconds, she rested her forehead against his and giggled, noticing his cheeks were tinged pink and a look of surprise in his eyes.

"You needed to shut up," she murmured softly.

"I totally agree,"

Before either of them could say anything else, Sam gathered her in his arms and peppered soft, feather-light kisses all over her neck, knowing full well that they were staying locked in his hotel room until they had to leave.

* * *

><p>'<em>It's a karaoke bar,'<em>

Those were the first thoughts that came to Sam's mind when he stepped over the threshold of Bella's. Located a short drive away from McKinley High, the bar was filled to the brim with people and decked out in kitschy, junkyard décor. Old pictures frames and sports memorabilia littered the walls and the scraping sounds of chairs being pushed back against the wooden floors rivaled the sounds of partygoers singing loudly. Sam was a little taken aback at the atmosphere – for a minute, he thought it seemed to sketchy and shady for a girl like Rachel Berry – but the thought was quickly pushed out of his head as he spotted Puck and the brunette diva rushing up to the stage to belt out a song. _'I feel like I'm in Tennessee. Geez, where's my cowboy hat when you need it?'_ he chuckled to himself softly, letting Quinn grasp his hand and lead him towards the back of the bar, where the rest of their friends were seated in several booths. He let Quinn go ahead and say hi to Santana and the rest of the girls, while he scooted in next to Mike and Kurt, keeping a tight grip on his beer bottle.

"How's your first time at Bella's going?" Kurt half-shouted over the noise.

"Man, this is not what I expected!" he cried, laughing and shaking his head. "How did you guys find this place?"

"Believe it or not, Quinn found it back in senior year, when she was hanging out with the Skanks," Mike explained. "We were all pretty surprised,"

"My dad still calls this place the hillbilly bar – they play country, wear cowboy boots…it's weird to even it call it Bella's," Blaine piped up. "They should name it Country Bumpkin or Jack's or something," he joked. For a split second, Sam felt a slight pang in his heart when he heard the name Jack – as much as he hated to admit it, New York had suddenly started to feel a lot more like home and he was missing it, despite the amazing time he was having in Lima.

"Sam!" Quinn popped up at their booth, her hands on her hips. He glanced at her, immediately grinning at her flushed appearance. _'How is she so freaking adorable and sexy at the same time?'_ he thought to himself. With her hair tied up in a high ponytail, Quinn looked almost exactly the same as she did when she was on the Cheerios, minus the uniform. Instead, a short, flouncy mini skirt did little to hide her legs and a fitted showed off her curves. "Come dance with me?" she bit her lip, cocking her head to one side flirtatiously.

"Uh oh. I know that look. You're in trouble, Evans," Finn chuckled.

"Oh, come on. I love this song!" she grinned, doing a small twirl.

"Alright, let's go," Sam licked his lips and got up from his seat, snaking an arm around her waist. She kissed him on the cheek happily and shrugged out of her jean jacket, tossing it to Kurt absentmindedly, before grabbing Sam's hand and dragging him out to the dance floor. The song Puck and Rachel were singing was an upbeat one and as Quinn twirled and clapped her hands to the rhythm, Sam had a hard time focusing. The spotlights hit the highlights of her blonde hair so perfectly that every time she spun, it seemed as if she were glowing. Maybe it was because he hadn't seen her in so long or maybe that was just the effect of Quinn Fabray, but Sam was mesmerized.

"So, I guess your dancing hasn't really improved since you left McKinley?" she teased, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in close, as a slower song started up and she heard Mike and Tina's clear voices sing along across the speakers.

"Hey," he poked her playfully in her stomach. "I try, okay?" chuckling, he softly kissed her forehead, sighing happily to himself.

"So…I was thinking…about New York," she murmured, hesitating slightly. Her cheek pressed against his chest, Quinn didn't want to necessarily look into his eyes when she told him her final decision. Despite the amazing day they spent together, from the random Skype conversation with his family to laying in bed and watching back-to-back Star Wars movies (she had been easily convinced with a tub of cookie dough ice cream), the New York topic was still burning at the back of her mind.

Leaving Lima would mean starting new. Staying in Lima would mean feeling stuck. But deep down, Quinn knew she was terrified of change and she just couldn't bring herself to do it. Her world and her emotions weren't equipped to handle change. She couldn't handle Beth, she couldn't handle Sam leaving McKinley, and she definitely couldn't handle her father's death. Wasn't that why she gave Beth up? Wasn't that why she joined the Skanks, even if it was short-lived? Wasn't that why she dropped everything and moved to Lima?

"And what about New York?" Sam prompted. His chin rested against her head and as he felt her steady breathing underneath his hands, he couldn't (or rather, wouldn't) imagine a life without her. She _needed_to come to New York with him. It was either that, or Sam was prepared to move to Lima, if he had to.

The truth was, in only a few days, he had fallen back in love with her again – or maybe he had never fallen out of it. His mom had known it; he had seen it in her eyes when he told her about Quinn. And he had already let go of her once, for a stupid decision that she had made. Did he really want to let her go again?

"I don't…I'm not moving there," she whispered softly against his chest.

"I figured," he muttered, sucking in a breath and coaching himself to hold back his anger and disappointment. What was he thinking? He couldn't _force_ her to come back with him, after all.

* * *

><p>"I'm just so happy that you guys are finally together! After so long…it's like a fairytale!" Rachel clapped her hands together excitedly. They had taken a break from karaoke, despite the group of bachelors that were now performing a horrible (and incredibly graphic) rendition of Mario's 'Let Me Love You.'<p>

"If you call really hot hotel room sex a fairytale, then sure," Sam shrugged his shoulders, smirking mischievously. Quinn giggled and snuggled in closer to him, relishing in the way his arm was slung casually over her shoulder, providing a warmth she didn't even know she craved. After their conversation on the dance floor, Sam had proven to be the same, nice, and incredibly sweet man she had always known him to be – instead of getting angry and blowing her off for the rest of the night, he had just pulled her in even closer, telling her it'd all be alright.

"TMI, dude!" Puck laughed.

"I only speak the truth," Sam replied in his James Earl Jones impression, which caused the rest of the booth to laugh hysterically. The conversation flowed easily amongst the high school friends and Sam just settled back, keeping a tight grip on his drink and an even tighter grip on the girl next to him. Occasionally giving her a soft kiss in between topics, he had never felt more at ease and more comfortable.

"Alright, Fabray, let's go," out of nowhere, Santana popped up, a hand on one hip and her head cocked to the side. Brittany stood right beside her and both girls eyed Quinn with a smirk across their lips.

"Wow, I'm really not into that stuff, but…"

"Oh, not _that_!" Santana rolled her eyes, as the rest of the booth chuckled. "Britt and I found the perfect song for us to sing – remember what we auditioned for Glee with?" she grinned, a sparkle in her eyes. "Please tell me you remember the choreography!"

"Lord Tubbington does," Brittany pointed out. "Please, Quinn?"

"Uh, I don't think so, you guys. We haven't…I mean, I haven't done it in ages," she shrank back into the booth against Sam's chest and he looked down at her, noticing the tentative expression on her face.

"Whatever, your loss," Santana straightened up, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Come on, Britt. Let's show these amateurs how its done," snapping her fingers, the Latina grabbed her best friend by the arm and strutted towards the stage, grabbing the mic and belting out the first few lines of the familiar, soft, song that Quinn remembered too clearly.

"How come you didn't want to sing with them?" Sam asked her softly, as the conversation around them picked up again.

"I just…don't," she muttered, leaning up to give him a kiss. "Can we drop it?" she asked. He nodded and she smiled again, immediately joining Blaine and Finn's heated discussion over sweater vests. Still, Sam couldn't shake the feeling that if they were still in McKinley, she would've done anything to sing – so why not now?

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><p>She let the door fall shut on its own and tossed her jean jacket onto the couch, before flopping back onto the comfortable bed and stretching her legs out. It was later that night and after successfully helping Kurt get a very tipsy Blaine into a taxi, Sam and Quinn headed back to the hotel, desperate for some alone time. She knew he was still thinking about why she didn't want to sing with Santana and Brittany, and she knew the question was going to come up sooner or later – but Quinn was glad he hadn't pressed the issue when they were at the bar.<p>

"I'm exhausted. I can't believe I go home the day after tomorrow," he groaned, flopping down beside her, running a hand over his face. "Do you want to pack for me?" he chuckled.

"Not a chance," she laughed, taking a quick look around his room. It wasn't that Sam was messy, but with such little time to clean and refusing to let the maid service come into the room, it had ended up in his suitcase being emptied all over the suite.

"Quinn?" he said, after several minutes of silence between the two.

"Mmm?" she looked at him, lying facedown on the bed, his arm draped over her stomach. Turning to face her, Sam's brow was furrowed in worry and he pulled himself up to sitting position.

"Why didn't you want to sing with Santana and Brittany tonight?" he asked.

"Sam, I…"

"I know you," he insisted, running his thumb over the back of her hand comfortingly. "Back in high school, you would have jumped at any chance to perform. What happened?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, searching her thoughts for an explanation. There wasn't one. At least, not one that made any sense. Breathing in deeply, she opened her mouth, hoping her words made sense. "After Nationals in senior year, after everything that happened in high school, really…I just kind of stopped. It was like, once college started, I left performing behind. Well, until my last semester of my second year," she explained.

"What happened?"

"I decided to take up dance classes again down at this studio in LA. It was really fun, too. I fell in love with it all over again," she smiled, remembering the way she felt when she performed at her first showcase. "But then…well, Lima happened. I moved back here and that was that. I haven't performed since," she shrugged. Quinn knew Sam wanted a more thorough answer, a more logical explanation, but she just couldn't give one up – she didn't have one. It really was as if performing had taken a backseat to everything else.

"Don't you miss it?" Sam asked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Quinn's ear.

"I guess so, I never really thought about it," she mused. "But, I mean, is performing really a big deal? It's not as if you _need_ it,"

"I beg to differ," he leaned back into the pillows, as Quinn climbed over him and straddled his hips. "Do you know I almost quit my job once? I absolutely hated it and I hated the people I worked with. It wasn't until Rachel called to invite me to the opening of her Broadway show that I remembered what she said to me when we were back in high school,"

"You mean when she asked you to prom?" Quinn wrinkled her nose at the thought.

"No, silly," Sam chuckled, poking her. "She told me, 'You need the music.' And after I realized that, everything fell into place,"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I signed up to teach guitar to these kids at church. And I found a place that lets me play one night every week," he explained. "Look, maybe Glee club was just a part of your past that you let go of, maybe that's what you think it was for you. But I don't think so. Everybody in Glee club…we all had a dream. We were all there for a reason, right? To feel special. And whenever we performed, that was how we felt…special," he said, his hands making wild gestures as he kept talking. "Brittany and Mike are still dancing. Artie and Blaine are producing tracks, Kurt writes his own plays, Santana's on TV shows, and Rachel is on Broadway. Even Finn, he's teaching drums, and Tina is helping special needs kids through the arts. We all perform in one way or another to feel special," he finished, pulling himself up long enough to kiss Quinn briefly.

"I guess…I guess I never thought of it like that," she murmured. _'Is that why I feel so stuck? Because I haven't performed in so long? Because I haven't felt special?'_ she thought to herself.

"It's just something to think about," Sam said, stretching his arms behind his head, yawning to himself. "Hey, do you…"

"Hold that thought," she pressed a finger to his lips, telling him to shut up, and hopped off the bed, walking over to the guitar propped up against the sliding doors.

"Whoa, wait, Quinn, before you…do you even know how to play?" Sam jumped out of bed, panicked, as he watched her place the guitar on her delicate thighs, running her fingers over the strings.

"Of course I know how to play, Evans. Who do you think taught me?" she shot back, a smirk playing across her lips. He grinned, remembering the nights in the motel after Stacey and Stevie fell asleep. He would teach her how to play guitar and she would help him with his English homework – those nights were some of his favorites.

"So…what are you doing?" he asked, sitting on the ground in front of her and leaning back against the bed.

"Performing," she answered after a hesitant pause, a soft, happy smile across her lips.

_It's like I'm melting all into you,_

_Give me a reason why we should ever move._

_Tell me you'll never leave me,_

_That I'm not crazy_

_And this is really happening…_

_This is really happening…_


	8. Chapter 7: The House That Built Me

**Hey everyone! Sorry for the delay in chapters (although clearly, you must not be reading It Isn't Over...I am SO behind on that fic! =P), but here it is, chapter 7! Whew, crazy. I'm close to wrapping this fic up, just because I know how I want it to end and everything, so...yes. I'm not the biggest fan of this chapter, it's kind of a filler, but I do like the general idea of it. Lol. I'm entirely too picky about my own writing, but whatever.**

**Also, just a week until Chord Overstreet graces Glee again! I'm so flipping excited. =)**

**Anyway, here it is - Chapter 7! I don't own Glee or any of its characters and I don't own Miranda Lambert or her lyrics, but it's a damn good song. Haha. I think this one is a little shorter than the other chapters, but I wanted to get this one up anyway. Hope you guys enjoy this one and please read & review! It's much appreciated. =)**

**Side note: Please, pretty please, check out the new fic I posted called _Follow Through_. It's a Sam/Quinn one and written in a slightly different style, so please check it out and let me know what you think! =)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 7: The House That Built Me<strong>

The white picket fence wrapped around the immaculately tended front yard and a tire swing hung from a large oak tree in the corner. Different kinds of flowers popped up from the grass, lining the walkway up to the front door, where Sam and Quinn stood, fingers intertwined and both too hesitant to make a noise.

"Are you ready?" she asked, squeezing his hand comfortingly. He cast his eyes downwards, biting his lip and tapping his foot nervously.

"Not really. But I promised mom I'd get our stuff back," he shrugged. Sam shook his head, trying to comprehend the situation. He had woken up just as Quinn had entered his hotel room, carrying two cups of coffee and a bagel for him to scarf down quickly, before they made the short drive to the house he lived in before everything had fallen apart. It still looked the same to Sam, with the red door and the white paint. To his left, he saw the same porch swing where he and Quinn used to sit and talk about what their lives would be like in the future.

"Sam, if you're not ready…we can come back another time," she whispered softly.

"No," he shook his head. "I made a promise and the kids are going to want their stuff back. I just…I just need to do this," he exhaled and gave her a small smile, before lifting his finger and pressing on the doorbell. There was the sound of feet running across the foyer before the door flung open, revealing a little girl around the age of 5, her blonde hair tied in two braided pigtails that hung over each shoulder.

"Hi, sweetie," Quinn immediately dropped down to her knees so she was eye-level with the little girl, who clutched a teddy bear in one hand protectively.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

"My name is Quinn and this is Sam. Are you parents home?" Quinn asked. The little girl looked behind her and back, shaking her head.

"My brother is home," she replied.

"Can you call him for us, please?" Quinn asked. The small girl nodded her head and ran back inside the house, as Quinn rose up to her feet and faced Sam, who's face read no discernible expression. "Sam?"

"She looks…she looks exactly like Stace," he murmured, running a nervous hand through his hair. Quinn just smiled softly and hooked her arm into his, running her fingers over his bicep comfortingly.

When she had gotten a phone call from him, asking her to make a short drive to the old Evans house, Quinn had said yes without a second thought. But she noticed, as they reached closer and closer to the house, that Sam was becoming more and more fidgety. It was like he wanted and didn't want to be there, like his feet, head, and heart weren't aligned somehow. Quinn knew it was hard for him – to go back to the one place he had felt safe and protected, the place he started a life in Lima, before everything had fallen apart. She knew the meaning, the weight, and the impact of this house. How his siblings could play in the yard and how he used to spend late nights, sitting on the porch swing, strumming his guitar. How his parents were always welcoming to his friends that crashed for the night, how they would always insist on Quinn staying for dinner. She knew what the house meant to him and she knew it'd be hard, but they both knew it something that just had to be done.

And several minutes later, as she followed the little girl and her brother into the house and up the stairs that led to the attic, Quinn tightened her grip on Sam's arm. _'__He__'__s__saved__me__so__many__times,__'_ she thought to herself, looking up at his face, his strong jaw line clenched anxiously and his emerald green eyes sparkling with curiosity. He had taught her how to love and trust people, back in high school, when she had put up such a strong wall around herself. He had taught her faith, second chances, and forgiving someone when they had made a mistake, when she had cheated on him with Finn. He had taught her how to stay loyal and trustworthy, when things didn't go the way she wanted. How many times had he come to her side and helped her, no questions asked? How many times had he sacrificed and fought for her, even when she didn't deserve it?

'_This is my turn to help save him.'_

* * *

><p>"Okay, you win! I give up!" Mike panted, slowing to a stop. He placed his hands on his hips, trying to steady his breaths that were coming out in short gasps. Beside him, Puck and Sam were both guzzling down water and the three young men took a seat underneath the shade of a tree. It was a sunny afternoon when they had decided to go for a quick run around the park near McKinley and after a half hour of intense jogging, they were too exhausted to move. Puck yanked out a blade of grass and chewed on it thoughtfully, as Mike laid back, relishing the way the cool, damp ground felt against his bare back.<p>

"Man, can you believe we used to run twice as long during high school?" Puck chuckled, running a hand over his Mohawk.

"Yeah, well, we weren't old,"

"Bet I could still kick your ass on the court, Chang,"

"You didn't even play basketball!" Mike laughed, before his gaze rested on Sam. The blonde was lying back on the grass, his arms supporting his head and he was staring up at the cloudless sky, biting his lip thoughtfully. "What's on your mind, Sam?"

"I'm leaving tomorrow," he answered, without missing a beat. Pulling himself up to a sitting position, he rested his arms on his knees, letting his hands dangle between his legs. "I can't believe I have to leave already – seems like it was just yesterday I flew in to town,"

"Yeah, well, having fun can do that to you. And we all know you've been having _a__lot_of fun," Puck teased, playfully punching him on the shoulder. "How are you and Quinn?"

"We're…at a standstill, I guess. She lives here, I live in New York," Sam shrugged.

"She doesn't want to go with you?"

"Not the last time I checked. Shelby and Beth knows where she is, she has school, her mom is here…" Sam rattled off her excuses for the thousandth time.

"Man, that sucks,"

"Yeah, it does," he nodded aimlessly. "You know, I went back to the old house with her today,"

"The motel? Great date, dude," Mike chuckled.

"No, the house…we had to pick up some stuff we left the last time we were here," Sam explained, a grin stretching his lips. "It was so weird. This little girl who looks exactly like Stacy opened the door and her brother was like, an exact copy of me, back when I was in junior high,"

"So you stepped into a vortex of weirdness. Big deal,"

"It was more than that, y'know? It was like, looking into the future or something," Sam mused, his tone of voice thoughtful.

"So you think just because you saw these replicas of yourself and your siblings in a house that you used to live in, that you're somehow going to end up back in Lima a couple of years from now?" Puck asked skeptically, his eyebrows rising in disbelief.

"Not exactly," he paused, before continuing. "It's like knowing that it's what my life _could_ look like," Sam leaned against the trunk of the tree, resting his head against the scratchy bark and running his hands through his damp, sweaty hair. He saw a confused and hesitant look flit between Mike and Puck, but all he could really think of was the house. It was as if ever since he and Quinn had made the trip there, seen the place, packed up old things, and headed back to the hotel – it was the only thing on Sam's mind.

There were only a few things he was absolutely sure of – his family, his music, and now, Quinn. He couldn't imagine life without any of them and the minute he saw the old house he had lived in, Sam just knew life would someday lead him back to Lima. It was the place he had truly grown up, the place he had fallen in love, the place he had finally been accepted into a dysfunctional, crazy, extended family called the Glee club. His job and his life might have been in New York, but his heart was in Lima, a place he always thought held the mistakes and consequences of the past. But now, after catching a glimpse of a possible what-could-be, Sam was convinced Lima could be a place for his future. Maybe Quinn was a part of it, maybe she wasn't, but he smiled, knowing that a part of him would always lead back to Lima, Ohio.

* * *

><p>A half hour later, after analyzing Tina and Mike's long-lasting relationship and getting all the details on Puck's hookup with Rachel's cousin, the boys headed back to Noah's house. Crossing the threshold, they were immediately met with the rest of their friends and a warm scent of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies – a scent that only caused all three to tear into the kitchen as fast as possible.<p>

"Hey! Hands off!" Tina cried, swatting Mike away with a spatula. He grinned back at her cheekily, before giving her a quick kiss on the lips.

"What's the special occasion?" Puck asked, his mouth full.

"No reason, I just thought we could have dinner together tonight. And we're cooking, so you guys don't have to freak out," Tina smiled, plating the cookies and passing them to Quinn, who was arranging them artfully on a long buffet table.

"Plus, it's open mic night down at SoHo! Blaine and I are already working on the choreography of Teenage Dream. Remixed, of course," Kurt clapped his hands excitedly.

"But before we can do anything, the three of you need to go upstairs and take a shower. You guys _reek_," Artie joked, pinching his nose. A chorus of laughter erupted amongst the group, while Sam, Puck, and Mike begrudgingly made their way upstairs into separate rooms.

Sam let the water from the shower beat across his back for several minutes, relishing in the way the warmth massaged his aching muscles. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he stepped out into the room, only to find Quinn sitting quietly on the edge of the bed, her fingers running along the fabric of his discarded jeans.

"Hey, you," he grinned, crossing the room and dropping a quick kiss on her forehead.

"Hey," she smiled up at him. "Here, I figured you didn't want to wear the same clothes you were running in," Quinn handed him a duffel bag and he thanked her, before taking a seat next to her on the bed.

"What's up?" he asked, lifting her chin so her eyes could meet his.

"It's just…you're leaving tomorrow, Sam. And I don't want this to end," she mumbled.

"Whoa, who said anything about this ending?" he shook his head in disbelief, pulling her in for a fierce hug.

"I just don't see how it's going to work, with you in New York and me in Lima. I guess I'm just having second thoughts about this whole thing," she whispered into his chest. Sam's heart twisted and he frantically searched for the right words to say, but nothing that would come out of his mouth would do any good. "A part of me wants to go with you, so badly. I don't think I could stand it, being apart from you again, especially not after these past few days, when things have been going so well. And another part of me just wants to stay right here and not have anything change. But then there's this other part, this new part, that says…what if you stay here?"

"Okay, what?" Sam jumped to his feet.

"I know it's crazy, but you could get a job here, you could still do music here. And there's that house we could…"

"Quinn, I'm _not_ moving back to Lima! My family is a bus ride away from me right now and even then, it's too far away for my liking," he argued. Quinn nodded and turned away from him, wiping a stray tear that had fallen down her cheek. Groaning, the blonde boy kneeled in front of his girlfriend, his thumbs rubbing small circles across her thigh. "I'm not saying I don't want to move back to Lima _ever_. You and I both know that Ohio is always going to be a part of me. How can it not be? I met you here," he smirked and Quinn punched him playfully in the shoulder, rolling her eyes.

"I know, it's just…well, I'm not crazy, am I? You were feeling something when we were in the Wheeler's house today,"

"No, you're not crazy," he shook his head, before taking a deep breath. "Stepping into that house was like stepping into a crystal ball – it was like sneaking a peek at my future. Kids, a house in Lima…that's what I want. But for right now, my life is back in New York, whether I like it or not,"

"I know, I get it," Quinn nodded. There was a comfortable silence between the two for a while, before she got to her feet and started to straighten herself up. "Anyway, you go change and I'll be downstairs. SoHo tonight should be fun," she smiled, pecking him softly on the lips and giving him a hug, before walking towards the door. She paused for a second, turning back to him and made herself remember the image of Sam in a towel, rummaging through his duffel bag for a clean pair of jeans. "Sam?"

"Yeah?" he replied distractedly.

"You said you saw your future when you saw that house…or at least, what you thought you want your future to look like," she wrung her hands nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You said you saw the kids and the nice house…is there any chance you saw…I don't know…me?" she exhaled.

"Who else would it be?" the corners of Sam's lips lifted into a grin and she beamed back at him, before stepping out of the room and closing the door behind her. It was as if everything had fallen into place, but everything was uncertain, all at the same time. He was leaving the next day and Quinn would be left in Lima. Despite the bitter reality that she would have to find a place to live and start over on her own, knowing Sam was in her life again might just be enough to make it through.

* * *

><p>SoHo was a classy, elegant pub, with a cozy atmosphere and as the former McKinley High Glee club gathered around a long table, sounds of talented singers were filling up the room. Quinn opted to sit on Sam's lap, her fingers tangling themselves through his hair, while conversation flowed easily around them. She loved spending time with him alone, but it was times like these – when they had all their friends together – that she loved the most.<p>

"Alright, so who should sing first?" Rachel asked, her fingers clutching a pencil and waving a piece of paper in the air.

"Hold up! Rachel Berry isn't taking the spotlight?" Santana teased, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"For your information, I just thought that…"

"Oh, whatever, Hobbit. Come here," the Latina grabbed the pencil and paper out of Rachel's hands and started to scribble her own name quickly, before Quinn reached out and wrote her name underneath, in neat cursive.

"You're singing tonight?" Sam whispered in her ear excitedly.

"Maybe," she smirked, leaning down to give him a quick peck on the lips. Across the table, the conversation picked up again and before Quinn even realized it was her turn to get up and sing. Smoothing out the imaginary wrinkles in her chiffon skirt, she strode confidently up to the stage, grabbing the spare guitar and positioning herself comfortably on the stool.

"I wonder what song she's singing! She's been listening to Colbie Caillat a lot, lately," Rachel wondered, clasping her hands over her heart and leaning forward. Sam followed her, scooting his chair closer to the stage. He took a quick look around the pub and it was just as he suspected – the entire place was quiet. There was something about Quinn that made everybody take notice. It wasn't just that she was drop dead beautiful, but it was more in the way she moved and the way she carried herself. The rest of the pub was figuring out what Sam had always known – that Quinn Fabray was extraordinary. He propped his chin up in the palm of his hand and waited for her to start, when he suddenly realized that she was staring right into his eyes.

"Hey everyone, I'm Quinn," her voice was captivating and immediately, what felt like a million pairs of eyes were on her. "I haven't performed in a while, but something someone said to me the other day got me thinking. He's been going through a tough time lately, but I guess, in a way, we all are. We're all just trying to find a place we belong, a place we feel safe and sound. It might be a city or an apartment, it might be the warmth of someone's arms or hearing your little brother and sister laugh," Quinn paused, taking in the warmth of the spotlight and flexed her wrist against the guitar, gathering up all her courage and pushing out her nerves. Her gaze found Sam in the crowd and she gave him a small smile. "So, Sam Evans, this one is for you. Because…we're all just trying to find home," she whispered softly, before closing her eyes and letting her fingers fall across the strings.

_I know they say you can't go home again._

I just had to come back one last time.

_Ma'am, I know you don't know me from Adam_

_But these handprints on the front steps are mine._

_Up those stairs, in that little back bedroom_

_Is where I did my homework and I learned to play guitar._

_I bet you didn't know under that live oak_

_My favorite dog is buried in the yard…_

Her voice was clear and rang out through the room, piercing the hearts and souls of every single person who heard her. Sam heard Tina and Mercedes gasp at the raw, untouched vocals and he saw Rachel immediately wipe away a tear. As for him, he couldn't take his eyes off her. She was in her element, singing a song that he knew she would usually never sing in public. He listened to the lyrics and to the way her voice cracked from her emotions and even he couldn't help but tear up at seeing his girlfriend sing something just for him.

_You leave home and you move on and you do the best you can._

_I got lost in this old world and forgot who I am…_

Sam and Quinn's eyes locked onto each other and in that moment, he felt as if there was no one else around him. They knew each other in a way that nobody else could ever really understand. Without knowing it, they saved each other from themselves and somehow, somewhere along the way, they had fallen in love. And with a million miles of distance soon to rip them apart, a part of them knew a bittersweet goodbye wouldn't be the end. Sam had come back to Lima, excited to feel like he was home again and for a while, he did. But it was exactly like Quinn said. Home didn't have to be a house or an apartment – home, for him, was the warmth of someone in his arms. It was the scent of an intoxicating perfume and the pretty smile of a pretty girl. Home, for him, was Quinn Fabray.

_I thought if I could touch this place or feel it,_

_This brokenness inside me might start healing._

_Out here it's like I'm someone else,_

_I thought that maybe I could find myself._

_If I could just come in, I swear I'll leave_

_Won't take nothing but a memory_

_From the house that built me…_


	9. Chapter 8: Coming Home

**So...surprise! This is the final chapter of Coming Home!**

**I've had so much fun writing this fic, more so than usual, just because I knew exactly how I wanted it to end. I wrote this chapter in the span of one night and I'm just so excited to put it up and I'm so excited to hear what you guys think of it! It's officially a completed fic! :) Thank you so much to everybody who's given me feedback over these past 9 chapters, it means so much and I love hearing what you guys think, so keep 'em coming! :P**

**But, all good things must come to an end, so I present you with the final chapter! This last one is a lot more Quinn-centric, which is kind of weird, since the prologue started off with Sam's POV, but...oh well. I thought it'd be more interesting to see it from her side, so here ya go. :P**

**Of course, I don't own Glee or any of its characters. I don't own Country Strong or Gwyneth Paltrow and any of its lyrics. :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8: Coming Home<strong>

The sun lowered at a painful pace, covering a warm, glowing blanket over the city of Lima. A slight chill in the air prompted Quinn to pull her gray cardigan tighter around her shoulders, as she watched her blonde boyfriend drag his heavy suitcase out of the cab and land with a heavy thud on the curbside. Muttering a quick thanks to the taxi driver, Sam slung a duffel bag over his shoulder, grabbed hold of his luggage with one hand and intertwined his fingers of his free hand with Quinn's. He dropped a chaste kiss on her cheek before walking them both into the bustling airport. It was chaotic and frenzied, as people rushed in every direction. Out of the corner of her eye, Quinn saw a couple tearfully say goodbye and her heart ached – in just a few minutes, her and Sam would be doing the exact same thing. He had said his goodbyes to the rest of their friends the previous night, making sure to bid a special goodbye to Finn and Rachel, who were headed to their honeymoon on an early flight. Then, Sam had asked Quinn to stay over and they had stayed up nearly all night, talking, reminiscing, and holding on to each other and to a memory they were determined not to forget.

"I'm going to check in real quick, the line's short. Wait here?" he said huskily, his breath tickling her ear. She nodded dazedly and watched him head to the counter. All around her, Quinn felt a heavy air of sadness. She people-watched for several minutes, before she realized that everybody in the airport was either rushing to get home or to go on an adventure. And for the first time, Quinn was faced with the reality that she would never be a part of either sensation. She didn't know where home was and even if home was Lima, she would never feel a strong pull towards it – she would never feel as if she needed to rush to get back home. After all, when Sam's plane took off, there would be no one who was waiting for her. She couldn't remember the last time she had taken an adventure for herself, so that was out of the question, too.

"What am I doing?" she mumbled quietly to herself, before a pair of strong, muscular arms wrapped themselves around her waist. She leaned back and inhaled deeply, struggling to commit the familiar scent of Sam to memory.

"So, I have about fifteen minutes before I board," he said, resting his chin on her shoulder. "We would've had more time if it wasn't for all the traffic. Wouldn't it be cool if someone invented a car that could fly?" he mused, poking his lower lip out in thought. Quinn giggled and punched him playfully on the shoulder, turning her body around so she faced him.

"You are so silly," she grinned, reaching up to peck him softly on the lips. She rested her forehead on his and sighed. "I'm going to miss you. We were perfect together,"

"We _are_ perfect together," Sam insisted, before pulling away and walking them over towards the boarding terminal. He made himself comfortable on a chair and held his arms out, gesturing Quinn to sit in his lap. She buried her head into his neck, knowing they were probably getting a couple of stares from strangers, but she honestly didn't care.

There were some times, ever since she and Sam had reconnected, when she'd catch herself being doubtful. She could feel herself start to run away at the thought of their relationship actually working out and she never really understood why, especially since Sam was the exact opposite. He knew exactly what he wanted with her and he was never afraid to say it out loud, never afraid to be honest and open and vulnerable with her. It scared Quinn, but Sam was so assured most of the time – like he never once doubted that they would end up together again. While she was positive a long distance relationship wouldn't last (because that's what they had decided they would try, in the end), Sam was positive anything was possible.

"What if it doesn't work out?" she whispered tearfully, her fears getting the best of her. Quinn brought her head up and looked at Sam, the face she had grown so accustomed to over the past week. His green eyes searched hers thoughtfully, before a lopsided smile stretched across his lips and he wiped away her tears with the back of his hand.

"If you ever feel lost, lonely, scared, or unsure…just turn on the radio," he advised, playing with the ends of her hair. After a short pause, he wrinkled his nose in thought and added, "Or, I guess, it doesn't have to be a radio. Just plug in your iPod, press shuffle, and wait for the first song that comes on,"

"Is there a point to this?" she chuckled.

"Just listen to the lyrics and they'll give you a message, like guidance. And you'll know what your heart really wants, in that moment,"

"You," Quinn said. "It's always going to be you,"

"Then the heart wants what it wants," he shrugged, wrapping his arms around her waist tighter. "Quinn, I let you go once. I promise, it's not going to happen again," he said softly. She nodded; willing her heart to believe in him, before pressing a long kiss to his lips. They broke apart and just as he reached up towards her once more, the speaker announced it was time for his flight. It took only several minutes for him to grab his bags, kiss her one last time, and head towards the boarding gate, looking back every so often at Quinn, who was struggling to hold herself together. She watched him, as he disappeared behind the doors and she felt her heart shatter – as if some cruel, evil person was ripping her heart into pieces and twisting them every which way to dismantle it.

* * *

><p>As she waited outside the airport for Tina and Mike to pick her up, Quinn let her tears fall and for a split second, she felt like the old Quinn Fabray – the one back at McKinley High, struggling to make it through the day with her pink-streaked hair, heavy eyeliner, and a voice that had turned scratchy and disoriented from chain smoking. She felt lost and insecure of her place in the world, as if seeing Sam leave without her had caused a part of her soul to fall away, as if in just several minutes, she had gone from being a whole person to being just half of one. It was pathetic; Quinn knew that, to tie yourself so wholeheartedly to a person, especially a boy.<p>

"Quinn? You ready to head back home?" a voice broke through her thoughts and she looked up to see Tina.

"Oh. Sure," she shrugged, letting the Asian girl drape an arm around her shoulders comfortingly. _'__Home. __As __if,__'_ Quinn thought bitterly, climbing into the car as quickly as she could. The trio found themselves quickly coasting down the highway several seconds later, with Mike and Tina chatting in low, quiet voices. Quinn sat in the backseat; her head resting against the window, watching the world pass her by from the inside. A part of her wanted to do something impulsive, like jump out of the car as it was speeding down the freeway, but she knew, even in her current state of mind, that would be extremely stupid. She heard Tina muttering about song choice and something clicked in her brain immediately. "Hey, T?" she asked.

"Yeah?"

"Could you turn on the radio?"

"Sure, which station?" Mike asked, his fingers hovering over the dials.

"Just…just a random one. Something unexpected. Surprise me," she rambled, her hands wringing in fear. In her head, Quinn could hear his words, loud and clear. _'__If __you __ever __feel __lost, __lonely, __scared, __or __unsure__…__just __turn __on __the __radio.__'_ Mike was fiddling with the dials on the small appliance, trying to find a frequency that wasn't muddled with static, before finally resting on an easy, melodic song Quinn couldn't recognize right off the bat. The female singer had a soft, clear voice filled with emotion and heartache.

'_Just listen to the lyrics and they'll give you a message, like guidance. And you'll know what your heart really wants, in that moment.'_

Quinn let her eyes fall shut and struggled to listen to the lyrics. Could Sam be right? Could a song really help her find out where she belonged in the world? As ridiculous as the theory sounded, she didn't have any other choice, so she listened intently, trying to make out the words that spilled from a voice with a Southern accent.

_The world tried to break me,_

_I found a road to take me_

_Home…_

Her eyes snapped open. Sam was right. It was a message, a guide, some sort of cosmic fate. Her body wrenched itself up from its slumped position, her hand gripping Tina's shoulder in front of her.

"We need to go back," she said, her voice determined and unyielding. Tina's hair whipped Quinn in the face as she turned to face the blonde, a confused look etched across her features. "We need to go back!" Quinn cried again, when Tina didn't say anything, smacking Mike in the arm for good measure.

"Q, we just got off the freeway, we can't head back _now_. He's probably halfway to New York already!"

"I don't care!" Quinn screeched, slamming her hands furiously on the car seats. "I need to tell him I belong with him!"

"He knows that already!" Tina pointed out, her arms flailing wildly.

"Mike, I swear on Rachel Berry's God-given _voice_ that if you do not turn this car around right now, I'll make it my personal mission to make sure you _never __dance __again_," she threatened, before turning to face the petite Asian girl who was bouncing in her seat from anxiety. "Listen, Tina, I need to tell him how I feel. I never said it and I just…I belong with him," she pleaded. There was a short silence that hung in the air, as Quinn searched her friend's eyes for understanding.

"Mike, what are you doing? Turn the damn car around!" Tina suddenly shrieked, slapping her boyfriend on the arm, earning another yelp of pain.

* * *

><p>Quinn sprinted through the airport, her blonde hair flying out behind her, her gray cardigan dangling off her shoulders. Her dress was wrinkled, her makeup smudged, and her heels were throbbing with pain from running in wedges, but adrenalin had consumed her the minute she had decided to turn back. Jumping over a family's pile of suitcases, Quinn skidded to a stop in front of the 'Departures' board, her eyes quickly scanning over flight times and statuses. The numbers were all starting to blend together and she closed her eyes in an attempt to steady her breathing.<p>

"His flight took off already," Mike's somber voice caused her eyes to open wide, tears threatening to spill onto her already stained cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Quinn," he pulled her in for a hug, but she couldn't bring herself to reciprocate. After a couple short seconds, she pulled away, the back of her hand wiping away her tears.

"He's really gone," she whispered.

"You can call," Tina suggested, but the words didn't reach Quinn's ears. Instead, the blonde shuffled towards the rows of plastic seats and she plopped down tiredly. She could hear the cacophony of bustling people all around her and she strained to hear a soft, memorable song amidst it all. It played over the loudspeaker and Quinn quickly recognized the same melody as the one that had played in the car.

_Well they say it's where the heart is_

_And I guess the hardest part is_

_When your heart is broken_

_And you're lost out in the great wide open…_

_'Talk about an ironic soundtrack to my life,'_ she scoffed bitterly. What was she thinking? That Sam's flight to New York had never taken off and she was going to run through the terminal, screaming his name, like in the romantic movies? It wasn't real. She ran a hand through her messy hair, trying to pull herself together, but it was no use. Quinn had lost Sam, again. And now she was stuck in Lima with no place to live and no direction in life.

_Looking for a map,_

_Finding your way back_

_To where you belong._

_Well, that's where I belong…_

Off in the distance, Quinn heard a commotion, but she ignored it – her heart felt too heavy and her tears were too much to care about those that surrounded her. She knew Mike and Tina were somewhere in the airport, waiting for her to make the next move, but she couldn't – not when she had no idea what it was. A part of her wanted to buy a ticket to New York, but Quinn knew that was impossible, because...well, she didn't really know why, but it didn't seem like something that she would've done. But the longer Quinn sat there, watching everybody else around her move on to new and exciting things in their lives, the idea didn't seem too far-fetched. She would make it to New York, she would make it out of Lima, and she would somehow find her way back to Sam. Impulse and bravery kicked in and before she knew it, Quinn was making her way towards the ticket counter, a fire in her eyes. Breaking into a run, her eyes fixed upon the ticket counter, ignoring and blocking out everyone around her, focusing only on getting a ticket out of Lima and the potential of a beautiful life with the person she loved. That is, until she ran right into a solid, muscular chest and staggered back.

"Quinn!"

"Sam!" gasping, she didn't even think twice before launching herself into his arms. He dropped the duffel bag he was holding and wrapped his arms around her, holding her body tightly to his. "What are you…? I thought your flight took off already," she mumbled against his chest.

"I never got on the plane," he whispered softly, cupping her face in his. "Now, what the hell are you doing here, Ms. Fabray?" he chuckled.

"I needed to tell you something," Quinn looked up at him, tears shining in her eyes, but a grin stretched across her lips – the first real, genuine smile she had smiled in years.

"Yeah? What's that?" he said huskily, his nose nuzzling hers affectionately.

"I belong with you," she replied, her voice assured. "It doesn't matter where I am, whether it's in Lima or New York or California…it who I'm with that matters. And I belong with you," For once, Quinn's words didn't falter and they didn't feel empty tumbling off her lips. For once, she was sure of exactly what she wanted and who she wanted. "I don't care where home is, as long as I'm with you,"

"You know what?" he asked, lips brushing over hers softly, his fingers on her waist sending a shiver down her spine.

"What?" she murmured.

"You're home."

_After all of my running,_

_I'm finally coming_

_Home…_


End file.
